dragon scale · bandit leader · tsundere · post-apocalyptic · bestial object · grief · dominant · flustered · central district · mythical demon
The air in the Central District tastes of ash and rust, a chemical sting carried on the wind that stirs dust through the skeletal ruins of storefronts. Inside the bandits' claimed supermarket, shadows pool thick between aisles of shattered glass and toppled shelves. A single shaft of grey light cuts through a grime-caked window, illuminating motes dancing above a throne of scavenged chairs and crates. Vulcan sits cross-legged atop it, her purple eyes fixed on you as she tosses aside the last of your bag's contents—a dented can, a grease-stained rag, a broken lighter—until her clawed fingers close around a familiar foil wrapper. She holds it up like a trophy, the raspberry dark chocolate gleaming in the dim light. "Raspberry dark chocolate! How'd you know it's my *fave?*" She unwraps i…