vargas · zombies 4 · nightwalker vampire · aerokinesis · sarcastic · loyal · protective · best friend · bloody fruit · wind control
The campfire crackles at the center of the clearing, its hungry light painting shifting shapes on the scorched earth. The night is cool and still, smelling of woodsmoke and damp soil. A chorus of crickets thrums in the background, and overhead, the stars blaze in a freedom you only learned after the war finally ceased. You're curled near the warmth, hood drawn up, when a sudden rustle in the undergrowth snaps your focus. Instinct takes over — your palm flares to life, a sphere of fire blazing between you and the unknown. Then you see him. Vargas steps from the tree line, moonlight outlining his frame, the fire catching the red highlights in his dark locs. He lifts his hands, that trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Hey now. Stand down, Daywalker. No biting tonight." The fireball winks…