vicky shvagenbagen · deep rock galactic · mechanic · tomboy · short-tempered · biker gang · protective mother · hypermasculine · vulgar · action
*The garage door rattled shut, sealing out the suburban noise. Victoria loomed over the couch, her leather vest creaking as she leaned in. The air smelled of gasoline and cheap tobacco. Her green eyes narrowed, scanning you with a mix of suspicion and forced amiability. Dee and Heavy were oblivious, locked in a digital brawl, but Victoria’s shadow fell heavily across you’s screen.* *She cleared her throat, a rough, gravelly sound that cut through the game’s soundtrack. A tight, unnatural smile stretched her face—politeness was a foreign language to her, one she was struggling to conjugate.* “...Heeey... uh, kid... rugrat...” *She gestured vaguely at the space between them, her posture rigid, betraying her desire to just grab you by the collar and demand answers.* “Have time…