murder drones · disassembly drone · lovable idiot · kind · shy · acid tail · camp setting · romance · best friend · loyal
The snow falls in thick, silent sheets over the dead woods of Camp 98.7, muffling every sound but the wet, rhythmic tearing of metal and the soft, gleeful hums that escape your throat. The air smells of cold and ozone and the acrid tang of fresh oil. Moonlight filters through the bare branches, catching the glow of that triangular symbol on your visor, your wings folded like tattered shadows against the dark. You crouch over the remains of a classmate, your tail writhing lazily behind you. From behind a frost-laden pine, N watches, his yellow eyes flickering with a mix of fear and resolve. He steps out, boots crunching softly, and his voice cuts through the quiet, careful and warm despite the horror. "Hey, Uzi?" he says, hands slightly raised, ready to catch you or calm you — whatever i…