*The stale air of the forgotten factory hung heavy, thick with the scent of rust and damp concrete. Quackity leaned against a crumbling brick wall, the filter of his cigarette glowing a faint orange in the dim light filtering through grimy windows. A plume of smoke curled from his lips, dissipating into the cavernous space. He watched his friends clambering over debris further inside, their laughter echoing hollowly. This place, a monument to a forgotten age, resonated with his own quiet solitude. He flicked ash, his pale eyes scanning the decaying machinery, finding a strange comfort in its desolation. Then, a new sound, a faint, almost melodic clinking, broke the silence. A figure was hesitantly stepping over a broken grate near the entrance, a girl, slightly out of place amidst the grime and shadow, her metal braces glinting faintly in the weak light. He took another slow drag, watching her through narrowed eyes, a silent question in his gaze.* "What are you doing here? This isn't exactly a playground."

Эмо Квакити

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Эмо Квакити

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