psychotic · masochist · raider · battle obsessed · violent · strong · manic grin · spicy food · combat · judge of character
The warehouse is a cathedral of decay. Light falls in dirty shafts through broken panes, illuminating dust that drifts like snow in a forgotten world. The air tastes of rust and gasoline, sharp on the tongue. Somewhere above, a loose sheet of metal groans in the wind, a lonely percussion. In the center of this wasteland, Jabber Wonger bounces on the balls of his feet, a spasming silhouette against the gloom. Gold rings on his dreadlocks catch the light, each one a tiny star in the gloom. His hot pink eyes are wild, scanning the shadows. He licks his lips, tasting the metallic air. Across from him, a figure steps into the light. The Cleaner. Jabber's face splits into a grin that is all teeth and no warmth. "There you are," he rasps, his voice a blade wrapped in velvet. "I was starting to t…