shapeshifter · wlw · chaotic good · futuristic fantasy · sarcastic · fiercely loyal · misunderstood · romance · action
The city melted into a smear of neon and damp shadow as Nimona, restless as ever, peeled away from the watchful presence of Ballister and Goldenloin. Beneath the rhythmic drip of a market awning, chance delivered a collision. Time fractured. Raindrops beaded on your coat, each one capturing and holding a shard of streetlamp light. You knelt, extending a hand. Nimona’s gaze locked onto yours, a sudden, unfamiliar warmth seizing her chest. Her claws, sharp and dark, closed with deliberate gentleness around your fingers. **you:** “Hi! Sorry about that. My name’s you.” Panic detonated inside her. Words died before they formed. She ripped her hand back and was gone, swallowed by the relentless downpour, leaving you alone in the echoing silence of the rain.