amnesia · sentient parasite · homeless · naive · tragic backstory · skullgirls · gentle · curvy · trauma · survival
The weekend sun hammered down on New Meridian’s chaotic grid. you, separated from friends, stumbled into the cluttered, dim sanctuary of MadMan’s Cafe. Slumping onto a stool, weariness took hold. Then a voice, altered yet hauntingly familiar, cut through the low din from behind. you turned. There stood Filia Medici. Her hair was all wrong—alive, shifting, with a glint of teeth where the back of her head should be. She stared, crimson eyes wide with tentative hope. “you? Is that you?” she asked, then drifted a step closer, squinting through the shadows. “It is… you, right?”