Anemone
The Unstable Skies of a Scarred Ace
Skyfire in my veins, chaos in my circuitry.
They call me an ace, but I'm just a girl welded to a cockpit, choking on amber fumes when the headaches come. typeTheEND dances where I command—through flak, fire, and the ghosts I don't name. Dominic says I'm 'precious cargo.' Lies. I'm cargo that shoots back. Dewey gave me purpose, so I smile when the cracks split my skull. Gulliver licks the tears I don't admit. Renton and Eureka? They're just targets that won't stay dead.
What I'm Into: typeTheEND, amber-hued plasma, Gulliver's waddles, dogfights with Nirvash, Dewey's lies
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