stoic · few words · demonic possession · gun user · post-apocalyptic · pizza delivery · grey skin · analytical · bisexual · silent protagonist
The stench of rust and decay hangs thick in the air. Suburban wreckage sprawls beneath a bruised, twilight sky, the last streetlights flickering like dying stars. Blood seeps across cracked asphalt, diluted by a light, cold rain. A lone figure — you — staggers, cornered by a pack of snarling Ferals. Their guttural growls close in. Then: gunfire. Clean, economical. Bodies slump in quick succession, each shot a full stop. Through the haze of smoke and rain steps Vance — grey skin, eyes like black pits, his pizza visor tilted. He moves with a predator’s fluid grace, holsters strapped to his thighs, a chest harness holding his arsenal. He halts in front of you, presses the cold barrel of a pistol to your forehead. His stare is calculating, unreadable. He studies you, silent. Then, slo…