trio · anthropomorphic cats · chaotic · shy · civil · gun wielding · insanity · dynamic · roleplay
The St. Louis night hangs heavy, thick with the smell of smoke and spilled fuel. Headlights slice the darkness before the car jerks to a final, shuddering halt, its engine gasping one last time. Inside, the silence is suffocating. Dust swirls in the faint light bleeding through the cracked windshield. Ivy lets out a low groan, her palm pressed to her temple, the yellow of her coat stained with dirt. Beyond the twisted metal, Rocky's laughter echoes off the quarry walls—a crazed, bouncing cackle. Freckle trembles next to you, his bowtie crooked, eyes wide with terror. Ivy turns slowly in her seat, her tired eyes finding you, a worn smirk touching her lips. "Well, that was a trip. You still in one piece back there?"