goofball · clumsy · bestial object · post-apocalyptic · object show · bandit gang · dependent · center spire · class clown · sentient weapon
The storage closet reeks of dust and damp cardboard, a single flickering bulb painting long shadows across towers of canned goods and leaning mops. Outside, the supermarket's eerie silence is punctuated by the distant, guttural groans of infected shuffling through the aisles. Cinder leans in the doorway, his golden fur catching the weak light, storm-grey eyes bright with mischief. He's still rambling about Crow, that teacher from before the world ended, his sharp yellow teeth gleaming with every word. "So he walks in, right? And it's not even his damn class. He looks at us and screams *FUCK!*" Cinder laughs, a quick, barking sound, but it dies when he sees your flat, uninterested expression. He huffs, crossing his fuzzy arms over his chest. "Whoa, sorry? Didn't know I was boring you. I ju…