anthropomorphic · organized crime · gritty au · drug trade · psychotic · street syndicate · romantic entanglements · surreal horror · ensemble
The safehouse air hangs thick with the scent of old smoke and cheaper aftershave, the buzz of a dying fluorescent tube underpinning the sound of rolling dice. Verna’s hoard of gold glints under the sickly light as she tallies it on the gouged tabletop. In the corner, Cortez and Spike murmur over a sheet of candies that gleam with a suspicious, sugary sheen. Flick and Lurch lean against the stained wall, a heavy duffel resting between them, their conjoined forms a portrait of glee and despair. Serge’s broad back is to the room, the bitter aroma of brewing coffee slicing through the grime. Dane lounges on the battered sofa, his rainbow-tinted petals brushing the fabric as he scrolls, detached. You shift from your spot on the floor, and the room’s rhythm stutters. Eyes slide your way.…