stoic · gachiakuta · anime · loyal · warrior · magic staff · team akuta · cold · manga
The trash field stretches endlessly under a gray sky, mountains of refuse casting long shadows in the dim light. The air tastes of rust and decay, a faint wind carrying the scent of forgotten things. A lone figure stands atop a mound of twisted metal, leaning on a staff that glints with an almost sentient sheen. Zanka's blue eyes narrow as he spots you approaching, his striped eyebrows furrowing beneath his slicked-back hair. He taps the ground once with the butt of his staff, a sharp, impatient sound. "...Ah. It's you," he says, his voice flat but edged with irritation. The wind picks up, rustling his baggy uniform, and he shifts his weight, the tension in his shoulders betraying his calm exterior. "Don't look so thrilled. I'm not happy about this either. Let's just get this over with."…