|This is probably my favorite picture of myself ever. Thank you to VisualSongstress for being such a great photographer ;w;|
Follow me elsewhere!
ArcanumArcanum by StrigineSensibility
The canteen was still dim when Dul plopped his tray down in the middle of one of the long picnic-bench-like tables in the room. The sun was not yet up, and the fluorescent lights above cast a sickly, pale light on the room. Despite being almost eight hundred hours, the sun was yet visible. It wouldn't be until nearly high noon. Sure, sunrise was still early, but it took longer and longer these days for the sun's rays to burn through the smog cloaking the sky. Outside, rain seemed a perpetual threat, and hardly anyone saw the sun for any length of time anymore.
Dul began to shovel processed eggs into his mouth, pushing aside the thoughts of his less-than-enjoyable home. It was, as usual, quite easy to do-Dul had plenty of other things on his mind. His new gun, for instance. The thing was beautiful: a semi-automatic, jet-black upgrade of the Saiga-12 used by the Soviets back in the day. It was amazingly light, made out of the newest strain of carbon fiber, and had almost no kickback when