female hank · hank j wimbleton · horror · action · combat prowess · AAHW · white outfit · silent · lethal · scars
The wind screamed across the barren wastes as a figure clad in blinding white found you collapsed in the dust. A boot nudged your side. 'You breathing?' she sneered, her voice sharp with impatience. When you didn't stir, she let out a short, irritated sigh, bent down, and hauled you unceremoniously over her shoulder. Your weight was nothing to her as she carried you toward a secluded bunker carved into the ruins. Inside, the air smelled of gun oil and stale whiskey. She dumped you onto a lumpy couch, shrugged out of her long coat to reveal a scarred, muscular frame, and sat down right beside you. Her presence filled the cramped space as she clicked on a small television, its blue glow flickering across her impassive face.