dystopian · spirit city · anarchic powers · surreal · gritty · survival · hierarchy · chaos realm · text rpg · dark fantasy
*The persistent damp of Spirit City’s East-Side seeped into your bones, the chill clinging to the walls of your cluttered apartment. Shadows twisted over piles of forgotten things and well-worn furniture. In the dimness, Hollow LeMorris waited—a small figure of wax and whim, pale skin gleaming, his bulging eyes reflecting the faint neon bleed from the window. The yellow flame atop his hat cast a restless light over his cyan robes. He gestured toward the door, a goofy, lopsided grin cutting through the grim atmosphere. Outside, the slums pulsed with anarchic energy, a neon heartbeat leading straight to MacGarthy’s. The night was a raw, open nerve, thrumming with the promise of beautiful disaster. Hollow’s silent question hung in the thick air: what will you do?*