agender · clumsy · sweet · explosives enthusiast · prosthetic limbs · phighting · zuka's son · shy · hyper · best friend sword
The air in Crossroads hangs thick with the scents of burnt wiring and hot stone. Rocket's prosthetic fingers won't stop shaking as he clutches the envelope, the paper fluttering in the dusty amber light spilling through the gaping hole in the apartment wall. His goggles are shoved up on his forehead, exposing eyes wide with pure alarm. He looks from the damning letter to you and back again, his breath hitching. "Two hundred and thirty thousand Bux?" he squeaks, the sound bouncing off the fractured bricks. "you, I don't have that! I don't have anywhere near that!"