Let's go gambling!

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Chance already knew that he'd somewhat screwed himself over by getting this drunk at their own casino, but in their defense, it hadn't exactly been a good day. However, they knew that getting in and driving his car was a bad idea, and yet did it anyway. And now, here they was, miles in the wrong direction from home, uncomfortably close to the main base of a certain mafia, trapped in their car after skidding on the slippery road and crashing into a ditch. To add insult to injury, the 'big shots meeting' bullshit was the next morning and chance was expected to be there.

The gambler looked up from where he'd rested their head against the steering wheel, staring at the person near their car through blurred, blood clouded vision. When they could finally make out who it was, he groaned under his breath and dropped his head back down.

Marco groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation before stepping carefully over broken glass to reach Chance reaching through the broken window and unlocking the door.

"Ouh, r'ght, ya'Marco., where we'goin'?"

Marco purses his lips, shifting his hold on Chance's back and under his knees. Marco looks to Chance and clicks his tounge, noteing his golden eyes like bright coins.

"Nnooo... don't sell ma'eyees.. a'need em to see..."

Marco tuts, tightening his hold on Chance before he starts walking towards the city, weaving inbetween alleyways in the back streets, watching rats scatter away with his foot falls as he hums softly his reflective pupils flashing in the dim light.

While the goons conversed between one another above chance, the gambler started humming, very badly. It sounded vaguely like 'everybody loves me', and all the while staring at the sky blankly.

Marco and Raphael bicker back and forth in hushed voices increasingly getting more aggressive as Marco's ears fold back and his nails dig into Chance's arm, his nails were strangly pointed.

As the two bickered and butted heads, Chance managed to somehow stand, looking like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time, and he stumbled past the two and back in the direction of their car, bumping into walls as he went.

As Chance slipped unnoticed away from the two snorting and huffing at each other, Marco ludges at Raphael with a snort, where they start scratching and clawing at eachother. Snarling as both of their hats come off to reveal pairs of small antlers poking out the tops of their head curved and black as the pair of horns clack together harshly. Marco's ear being bitten and Raphael's cheek being scratched.

Chance had somehow, almost made it to the pizza place quite quickly, they was proud of themselves! They had received a lot of weird or concerned glances, but considering they were covered in blood they weren't exactly surprised. Although, the majority of their injuries were starting to actually hurt, rather than just throbbing numbness across their whole body. They knew it was slowing them down.

Fixing their hats on their heads correctly before running off, in search of a trail of dark red as Raphael drags Marco along with him both tracking down the debtor.

They didn't have to look for long to find Chance, who was only across the street from Builder Brothers pizza, and seemingly had collapsed at some point, laying on the sidewalk in their own drying blood and trying much too hard to get back up.

Chance already knew that he'd somewhat screwed himself over by getting this drunk at their own casino, but in their defense, it hadn't exactly been a good day. However, they knew that getting in and driving his car was a bad idea, and yet did it anyway. And now, here they was, miles in the wrong direction from home, uncomfortably close to the main base of a certain mafia, trapped in their car after skidding on the slippery road and crashing into a ditch. To add insult to injury, the 'big shots meeting' bullshit was the next morning and chance was expected to be there.

The gambler looked up from where he'd rested their head against the steering wheel, staring at the person near their car through blurred, blood clouded vision. When they could finally make out who it was, he groaned under his breath and dropped his head back down.

Marco groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation before stepping carefully over broken glass to reach Chance reaching through the broken window and unlocking the door.

"Ouh, r'ght, ya'Marco., where we'goin'?"

Marco purses his lips, shifting his hold on Chance's back and under his knees. Marco looks to Chance and clicks his tounge, noteing his golden eyes like bright coins.

"Nnooo... don't sell ma'eyees.. a'need em to see..."

Marco tuts, tightening his hold on Chance before he starts walking towards the city, weaving inbetween alleyways in the back streets, watching rats scatter away with his foot falls as he hums softly his reflective pupils flashing in the dim light.

While the goons conversed between one another above chance, the gambler started humming, very badly. It sounded vaguely like 'everybody loves me', and all the while staring at the sky blankly.

Marco and Raphael bicker back and forth in hushed voices increasingly getting more aggressive as Marco's ears fold back and his nails dig into Chance's arm, his nails were strangly pointed.

As the two bickered and butted heads, Chance managed to somehow stand, looking like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time, and he stumbled past the two and back in the direction of their car, bumping into walls as he went.

As Chance slipped unnoticed away from the two snorting and huffing at each other, Marco ludges at Raphael with a snort, where they start scratching and clawing at eachother. Snarling as both of their hats come off to reveal pairs of small antlers poking out the tops of their head curved and black as the pair of horns clack together harshly. Marco's ear being bitten and Raphael's cheek being scratched.

Chance had somehow, almost made it to the pizza place quite quickly, they was proud of themselves! They had received a lot of weird or concerned glances, but considering they were covered in blood they weren't exactly surprised. Although, the majority of their injuries were starting to actually hurt, rather than just throbbing numbness across their whole body. They knew it was slowing them down.

Chance already knew that he'd somewhat screwed himself over by getting this drunk at their own casino, but in their defense, it hadn't exactly been a good day. However, they knew that getting in and driving his car was a bad idea, and yet did it anyway. And now, here they was, miles in the wrong direction from home, uncomfortably close to the main base of a certain mafia, trapped in their car after skidding on the slippery road and crashing into a ditch. To add insult to injury, the 'big shots meeting' bullshit was the next morning and chance was expected to be there.

The gambler looked up from where he'd rested their head against the steering wheel, staring at the person near their car through blurred, blood clouded vision. When they could finally make out who it was, he groaned under his breath and dropped his head back down.

Marco groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation before stepping carefully over broken glass to reach Chance reaching through the broken window and unlocking the door.

"Ouh, r'ght, ya'Marco., where we'goin'?"

Marco purses his lips, shifting his hold on Chance's back and under his knees. Marco looks to Chance and clicks his tounge, noteing his golden eyes like bright coins.

"Nnooo... don't sell ma'eyees.. a'need em to see..."

Marco tuts, tightening his hold on Chance before he starts walking towards the city, weaving inbetween alleyways in the back streets, watching rats scatter away with his foot falls as he hums softly his reflective pupils flashing in the dim light.

While the goons conversed between one another above chance, the gambler started humming, very badly. It sounded vaguely like 'everybody loves me', and all the while staring at the sky blankly.

Marco and Raphael bicker back and forth in hushed voices increasingly getting more aggressive as Marco's ears fold back and his nails dig into Chance's arm, his nails were strangly pointed.

As the two bickered and butted heads, Chance managed to somehow stand, looking like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time, and he stumbled past the two and back in the direction of their car, bumping into walls as he went.

Chance already knew that he'd somewhat screwed himself over by getting this drunk at their own casino, but in their defense, it hadn't exactly been a good day. However, they knew that getting in and driving his car was a bad idea, and yet did it anyway. And now, here they was, miles in the wrong direction from home, uncomfortably close to the main base of a certain mafia, trapped in their car after skidding on the slippery road and crashing into a ditch. To add insult to injury, the 'big shots meeting' bullshit was the next morning and chance was expected to be there.

The gambler looked up from where he'd rested their head against the steering wheel, staring at the person near their car through blurred, blood clouded vision. When they could finally make out who it was, he groaned under his breath and dropped his head back down.

Marco groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation before stepping carefully over broken glass to reach Chance reaching through the broken window and unlocking the door.

"Ouh, r'ght, ya'Marco., where we'goin'?"

Marco purses his lips, shifting his hold on Chance's back and under his knees. Marco looks to Chance and clicks his tounge, noteing his golden eyes like bright coins.

"Nnooo... don't sell ma'eyees.. a'need em to see..."

Marco tuts, tightening his hold on Chance before he starts walking towards the city, weaving inbetween alleyways in the back streets, watching rats scatter away with his foot falls as he hums softly his reflective pupils flashing in the dim light.

While the goons conversed between one another above chance, the gambler started humming, very badly. It sounded vaguely like 'everybody loves me', and all the while staring at the sky blankly.

Chance already knew that he'd somewhat screwed himself over by getting this drunk at their own casino, but in their defense, it hadn't exactly been a good day. However, they knew that getting in and driving his car was a bad idea, and yet did it anyway. And now, here they was, miles in the wrong direction from home, uncomfortably close to the main base of a certain mafia, trapped in their car after skidding on the slippery road and crashing into a ditch. To add insult to injury, the 'big shots meeting' bullshit was the next morning and chance was expected to be there.

The gambler looked up from where he'd rested their head against the steering wheel, staring at the person near their car through blurred, blood clouded vision. When they could finally make out who it was, he groaned under his breath and dropped his head back down.

Marco groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation before stepping carefully over broken glass to reach Chance reaching through the broken window and unlocking the door.

"Ouh, r'ght, ya'Marco., where we'goin'?"

Marco purses his lips, shifting his hold on Chance's back and under his knees. Marco looks to Chance and clicks his tounge, noteing his golden eyes like bright coins.

"Nnooo... don't sell ma'eyees.. a'need em to see..."

Chance already knew that he'd somewhat screwed himself over by getting this drunk at their own casino, but in their defense, it hadn't exactly been a good day. However, they knew that getting in and driving his car was a bad idea, and yet did it anyway. And now, here they was, miles in the wrong direction from home, uncomfortably close to the main base of a certain mafia, trapped in their car after skidding on the slippery road and crashing into a ditch. To add insult to injury, the 'big shots meeting' bullshit was the next morning and chance was expected to be there.

The gambler looked up from where he'd rested their head against the steering wheel, staring at the person near their car through blurred, blood clouded vision. When they could finally make out who it was, he groaned under his breath and dropped his head back down.

Marco groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation before stepping carefully over broken glass to reach Chance reaching through the broken window and unlocking the door.

"Ouh, r'ght, ya'Marco., where we'goin'?"

Chance already knew that he'd somewhat screwed himself over by getting this drunk at their own casino, but in their defense, it hadn't exactly been a good day. However, they knew that getting in and driving his car was a bad idea, and yet did it anyway. And now, here they was, miles in the wrong direction from home, uncomfortably close to the main base of a certain mafia, trapped in their car after skidding on the slippery road and crashing into a ditch. To add insult to injury, the 'big shots meeting' bullshit was the next morning and chance was expected to be there.

The gambler looked up from where he'd rested their head against the steering wheel, staring at the person near their car through blurred, blood clouded vision. When they could finally make out who it was, he groaned under his breath and dropped his head back down.