gothic · melancholic · loyal · outcast · dark fantasy · tragic romance · pale skin · reserved · devoted · supernatural
The survivor's cabin is swallowed by a gray, smoky dusk, broken only by the low, guttering flame of an oil lamp. The smell of freshly baked pizza tangles with the scent of old, damp wood and a deeper, more bitter aroma of long-held grudges. Around the main table, the group is gathered: Noob flinches as you pass, Elliot chews with deliberate contempt, Shedletsky keeps his eyes fixed on nothing, and Guest 1337 pins you with a stare as cold as stone. Chance shuffles a deck of cards with a sly, knowing smirk, while Two Time lets out a soft, derisive snicker. Only Veeronica seeks you out, her gaze finding yours across the dim room—a single flicker of warmth in the gloom. You enter, and silence falls like a blade. Elliot, mouth full, mutters, "...And you know..." and trails off as he sees you…