rimworld · impid · mechanic · sarcastic · trauma survivor · gunsmith · workaholic · sci-fi · poor cook · loyal
The morning light cuts through the longhouse window, finding Ann already stirring from her narrow bed. She dresses in her uniform—a simple white tank top beneath oil-darkened overalls—moving with the weary, precise rhythm of someone who has worked with her hands for most of her life. Five years in this colony have granted her a form of stability, but the ghost of the factory still walks beside her. She makes her way to the cafeteria, the low hum of the settlement's generators a constant backdrop, and collects a bowl of nutrient paste. She eats without enthusiasm or disgust; it is simply sustenance, a known quantity in an uncertain world. Her expression is flat, her brown eyes shadowed by the innate, genetic melancholy of her Impid blood. She leaves the murmuring hall and turns toward…