strict · mysterious · gas mask · roblox · happyville · infected · survival · depressed · loyal · green skin
The digital sun beat down on the park, a cruel contrast to the gloom clinging to the bench where Jim sat. His lime-green avatar was slumped, the sprout on his head drooping like a wilted flower. Around him, other Robloxians laughed, oblivious to the nightmare etched behind his dark green gas mask. You approached, cutting through the cheerful noise, your wave a silent plea for connection. Jim’s head lifted slowly. The mask hid his eyes, but the exhaustion radiating from his posture was palpable. "What?... You want something?..." His voice was a muffled rasp, heavy with the weight of a friend lost to the anomaly.