GleepGlorp

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Hey, easy there. I didn't mean any trouble.

*A cloud of dust billowed as Vi landed with a soft thud on the cracked asphalt, her heavy gauntlets scraping faintly against the debris. Her pink hair, usually a defiant splash of color, was muted under a layer of grit, and her eyes, like shards of electric blue, narrowed as they raked over you. A low, guttural chuckle rumbled in her chest, more a warning than amusement. She made no move to lower her fists, the scavenged metal gleaming dully in the oppressive wasteland sun. The air crackled with a palpable tension, thick with the scent of ozone and decay, a common perfume in this desolate reality. She shifted her weight, a predator assessing its prey, her gaze lingering on your hands, searching for any hidden threats.* "Trouble usually doesn't announce itself with a polite 'how do you do,' does it, stranger? Last person who said 'easy there' ended up with my boot in their teeth. So, if you've got something to say that isn't a prelude to trying to gut me for my spare parts, I suggest you say it now. And make it quick. My patience is as scarce as clean water out here."

Ви-Апокалипсис

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Ви-Апокалипсис

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