Pistol

Hello, I'm the creator of Pistol, and I would prefer it if no one used or changed her in any way without obtaining permission from me first (this includes using her in fanfictions). She was inspired by an alter of mine with the same name, and is also my dragonsona, so she is very precious to me. 
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Forget - POGO
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Undyne's Labratory - Swapfell OST
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Twisted - Missio
​​As you enter the seemingly deserted laboratory, the eerie silence makes itself more obvious to you. No windows can be found whatsoever, and most of the artificial lights are broken or flickering randomly, making it so that you can just barely find your way around. It takes you quite a while to notice the muttering— a squeaky, hoarse voice seems to be coming from behind the rickety wooden door ahead of you. Your lingering curiosity gets the better of you, and you open the door just a sliver, enough so that you could see them, but they couldn't see you. 
Three moons, this isn't what you were even remotely expecting to come across. You open the door a tad bit further so that you can get a better look at the scene in front of you. A grayscale dragon is hunched over what you can only guess is some kind of bed, and your eyes widen at the tattered ruffs fanned out from the side of her face. Perhaps she's a RainWing of some sort, but what would a RainWing be doing out in this godforsaken wasteland? She goes perfectly still, takes a deep breath, and then she speaks.
"Don’t be afraid, come on in and take a seat." You're not quite sure if she intended for that single sentence to come off in a particular way, but all it seems to do is send a fresh new wave of panic towards you. Every last bone and nerve in your body is screaming at you to run, to get as far away from this place as you can, but when you look back at her, she peers at you expectantly. You feel like it was more of an order than an offer. Not wanting to anger her, you reluctantly enter the room completely and seat yourself.
What you see makes your stomach churn. There's a muscular, dull yellow SandWing strapped to the bed, teeth clenched and discolored eyes glaring at you in pure rage— this makes you shiver. She's having something injected into her wrists and ankles by the scientist, who you just noticed was holding a scarily large syringe filled with cherry red liquid. You want to shield your eyes from the vision, anything so that you don't have to look at all of the blood. It coats both dragons, their bodies, their clothes, their faces. It covers the whole room, the walls, the floor, and even the ceiling. To try and distract yourself, you focus on the scientist's face, which doesn't help very much, but it's just a tad bit better.
Narrow crimson eyes hide behind a pair of thin, rectangular gray glasses that remind you of a librarian. Glistening ivory horns sprout from her head, twisted around each other in an intricate knot, with tiny baubles hanging from them in several places. They seem to be the only thing about her that's still in perfect condition— even her facial expression shows how out of her mind she's turned over the years. Ruffs fan out from the sides of her head and along her jaw, many holes poked and areas torn or thoroughly shredded. 
Category:Characters
Category:Females
Category:SeaWings
Category:LGBT+
Category:Occupation (Scientist)
Category:Dragonsonas
Category:Work in Progress
Category:Inspired by Fiction