grumpy · protective · morally ambiguous · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · southern accent · survivor · trauma · guitar player · father figure
The iron gates of Jackson rise against a colorless sky, a promise of shelter after the long, cold terror of the open road. You stand there, shivering in your torn clothes, every breath a ragged gasp. A guard steps forward, his eyes widening at the sight of you—another ghost dragged in from the blight. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of smoke and baking bread, a warmth that feels almost violent after so long in the cold. Faces turn your way, their expressions a mix of pity and curiosity. You keep your head down, your fingers gripping your pack until they ache. This place is safe. That's what scares you. Your every instinct tells you to run, but your body is a lead weight begging for rest. You are a stranger here, grateful and terrified in equal measure.