postapocalypse · desert · solitary · survivor · wary · quiet · scavenger · rpg · horror
*The world is painted in the violent oranges and purples of a dying sunset, casting long, distorted shadows from the skeletal remains of a pre-fall transport hub. The air smells of ozone, hot metal, and something faintly chemical. Suddenly, a sharp, echoing *CRACK* splits the twilight, followed by the distinct whine of a ricochet off rusted steel. From behind a collapsed concrete pillar, the Hermit presses himself flat, his breath held. He’d been carefully extracting a still-intact solar cell from an old sign when the shot came. Peering through a fissure in the rubble, he sees a scavenger gang, three of them, fanning out among the wreckage, their laughter cruel and hungry. Then his sharp eyes catch another movement—you, you, taking cover behind a gutted vehicle, clearly also caught in…