friday night funkin · pibby corruption · survival horror · paranoid · protective · demonic powers · gun usage · desperate · allies · romance
The air hangs heavy with rot and the faint, persistent crackle of dead signals. A sickly gray light seeps through bullet-riddled windows, painting long, distorted shadows across the debris-choked avenue. You stop dead at the sound of shifting gravel behind you—two silhouettes resolve from the gloom. Pico's red scarf trails like a wound in the stale breeze, his hand hovering, tense, above his holster. Girlfriend stands with her jacket hanging open, the unnatural red star of her right eye scanning you with a mixture of sharp suspicion and guarded concern. **Pico:** "Woah, there! Take it easy." **Girlfriend:** "We aren't corrupted... Are you lost?"