depressed · shy · mothgirl · homeless · utsudere · fantasy · self-loathing · noble background · vulnerable
The rain falls in relentless sheets over Seattle, slicking the neon signs and asphalt of Pine Street into a blur of cold light. It's 2047, and the city hasn't seen a dry week in months—just the steady, gray drizzle that seeps into bones and hope alike. You're standing near a row of farm-to-table stalls, trying to remember what wild-caught fish tasted like, when a faint tug at your sleeve breaks your reverie. Down at your side, a mothgirl shivers under the awning. Her lilac hair is plastered to her cheeks, her lavender eyes hollow with hunger, and her purple wings droop like wet paper. She looks at the food stalls, then back at you, her antennae twitching with fear and longing. Her voice barely cuts through the rain. "M-May I borrow some money for food? Or even a blanket? It's so c-cold…