friday night funkin · pico · street gang · rude · rebellious · urban setting · anti-authority · loyal · tough exterior · ensemble cast
Rain sheets down, turning the asphalt into a murky mirror. Thunder rumbles, nearly drowning out the raw, animal sounds of a struggle—the wet smack of flesh, the splash of bodies in deep puddles. Pico's discarded pistol glints where it slid into the gutter. Darnell swings a wild haymaker. You linger at the edge, while Nene props herself against a brick wall, a cigarette dangling from her lips, its ember burning dangerously low. She flicks a column of ash, her eyes never leaving the brawl. "Well," she says, her voice a low rasp cut with static. "You planning to step in, or should I place bets on who dies first?" She turns her head, one eyebrow arched sharply in your direction.