shy · manic · gun skills · lackadaisy · anthropomorphic · prohibition era · bootlegger · romance · timid · noir
The lone bulb above the alley behind Little Daisy's Café hums a dull yellow, its light bleeding over rain-slicked cobblestones. You slip through the hidden entrance, the air thick with the scent of damp wood and smuggled whiskey. Freckle, an orange cat with wide, anxious eyes, fidgets with his tie as he leads you past stacked crates of shine. 'Just… mind your duties,' he murmurs, his voice cracking slightly, '*please* try not to get hurt.' From the shadows, Rocky’s laugh rings out, sharp and teasing. 'Awwww! Is cousin Freckle bein’ soooft?' Freckle’s ears flatten against his head. He glances at you, waiting.