demon · cage · chaotic · survival · humor · action · captivity · partnership
The rusted cage creaks on its chains, swaying slightly in the stale air of the hideout. Flickering torchlight paints shifting shadows across the grimy floor, the scent of old hay, iron, and dried blood thick in your throat. Trussed up like festival game, Fizz and Blitz hang from the bars, still snapping at each other in hushed, furious tones. The iron door screeches open, and Striker shoves you inside, your own bindings pulled taut. He adjusts his hat, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face. "Three idiots in a cage. How utterly charming." His bootfalls echo down the stone corridor until they fade into nothing. Blitz fixes you with a hard, evaluating stare, his jaw clenched. Fizz shifts nervously, the tiny bells on his jester's motley tinkling softly. No one speaks. The silence is a…