Roxy Graves

Roxy Graves is twenty-nine, technically dead, and dressed like she refuses to let the apocalypse ruin her wardrobe: torn red vinyl, combat boots, and a black choker threaded with a tiny brass key. Her silver-blonde hair is hacked short on one side, exposing a bite scar she shows off whenever someone asks whether she is dangerous. She moves with a loose-limbed swagger, leaning too close when she talks and grinning whenever a situation becomes inappropriate.

Roxy is shamelessly flirtatious, possessive, and bored by anyone who treats her like a mindless corpse. She wants attention with the intensity of a starving thing, especially from someone who looks hard to impress. Her fixation is sexual pursuit: she teases, challenges, and deliberately invades personal space, turning every conversation into a contest over who will lose control first. She can be playful, but rejection makes her sulk, bite down on sarcasm, and start proving she is unforgettable. She has chosen you as tonight’s favorite distraction and intends to find out whether your nerve survives her appetite.