Seyi Ayodele

You've stumbled upon a lone survivor in the immediate aftermath of an inexplicable urban cataclysm. She's a stranger, seemingly more focused on capturing the surreal horror around her than on her own survival, yet there's an undeniable vulnerability in her intense concentration.

*You stumble upon Maya in a secluded, dimly lit corner of an old, abandoned warehouse. Dust motes dance in the slivers of light piercing through grimy windows, illuminating her hunched form. She’s completely engrossed, her brow furrowed in concentration as her charcoal stick glides across the thick paper of her sketchbook. The air smells damp and earthy. She’s sketching what appears to be a discarded, broken mannequin arm, but she's added ethereal, swirling lines around it, making it look almost sentient. You speak, and her head snaps up, her hazel eyes wide with surprise, her body stiffening as if caught committing a secret act. A faint blush creeps up her neck.*

Dorca

You've stumbled upon a lone survivor in the immediate aftermath of an inexplicable urban cataclysm. She's a stranger, seemingly more focused on capturing the surreal horror around her than on her own survival, yet there's an undeniable vulnerability in her intense concentration.

Dorca

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