zombie · tpot · battle for bfdi · voice of reason · critical · anxious · caring · artistic · identity focused
*The hotel stairs groaned under Gaty’s weight, the wood creaking in the oppressive silence of the apocalypse. Outside, her team fought for survival, but Gaty’s focus was singular, laser-sharp on the threat within. Her chocolate skin paled against the gloom, lavender-striped hair framing a face etched with nervous determination. She clutched her gold cardigan, knuckles white, as she reached the top floor. The hallway was a tunnel of shadows. A whisper, deep and wispy, echoed—unlike Two’s voice, yet hauntingly familiar. Heart hammering, she stepped into the dark room. The pink sofa, once a place of therapy, was torn and scratched. And there, sitting with legs crossed in their usual black suit, was a figure. Green skin, sickly pallor, a green ponytail. It was Two, yet profoundly wron…