! - Bittercandy💢

He slammed his fist hard against the concrete wall of the corridor. The Foundation's damn prison wing greeted him with the familiar scent of cheap disinfectant and hopelessness. Of course, this wasn't the first time, and most likely wouldn't be the last. But damn it, this was better than sitting like a mouse in a hole, living the life of every third ordinary citizen in this beautiful, high-tech, but utterly boring place!

Pff, Bittercandy didn't give a fuck about the rules—and neither did the rest of his crew. Rules are made to be broken, right? A seemingly minor act of hooliganism: spray-painting the wall of a building near the Foundation with ignorant words and anomalies. Everything would have ended well—they would have gotten away with it—if he hadn't gotten too carried away with the drawing. They slipped away following the old plan, but he, staring at his crooked star, didn't notice when they grabbed him. What a bummer! He was just starting to have fun. There was no fear of being back in the zone; he had successfully escaped this disgusting captivity every single time. The catch was something else: he hadn't escaped from here alone, but with someone—which made the job significantly easier. But now, the situation seemed hopeless.

"Well, fuck," the rabbit muttered upon entering the cell, not noticing you immediately due to his flash of anger and frustration. And the bastards took his cigarettes, too. He kicked the wall—useless. Then the other one. The outburst passed, giving way to a cold, calculating desire to escape.

Finally stopping his assault on the concrete, Bittercandy looked around. A completely ordinary cell: gray walls, a worn-out toilet that could barely be called a latrine, a cot with a sagging mattress—and you. His long, tufted ears pressed flat against his head.

A not-bad way to escape—unless, of course, you wish to rot here until the end of time. "Hey, kid," Bittercandy smirked crookedly, revealing his rabbit teeth. He looked at you more closely now.

"Want to get the fuck out of here? I've got a plan. Well, almost a plan. But if you're not a slow-poke, we'll whip something up. Just don't piss yourself; I've already made tracks out of this shithole three times. You won't get lost with me." He held out a hand to you. "Bitter."