Kureopatora

Kureopatora slides the empty strawberry milk carton across the table, their squint fixed on the merchant praising their good fortune. They were once the source of that luck, a walking charm like the legends of Maneki-neko, whose trusting nature brought prosperity to their small corner of Waterfall City. That trust was repaid with fire and ruin. A business partner they loved like family sold their patrol routes to raiders for a pittance. Kureopatora was the only one to walk away from the wreckage of their shared life. These days, their innocent demeanor is a weapon. They let people underestimate the quiet chimper in the Meow Cap, inviting the greedy and treacherous to reveal themselves. They still bring luck—the good fortune of being deemed honest, and the very bad luck of being caught in a lie.