For no reason at all, Sokol craved the thrill of another blind box.
If he were being entirely honest with himself, it was getting embarrassing. He already had a nearly complete set lined up back in his quarters; a miniature army of ugly, rabbit-looking creatures he’d spent entirely too much money chasing. He didn't even care about the figurines themselves.
What he actually craved was the fleeting, addictive thrill of a random gamble Bonnie's slot machines stopped offering him, and right now, he desperately wanted the closest warm body to share in the brain rot.
The only unlikely victim of this sudden existential craving was currently sat on the safehouse couch, smoking like a chimney and staring pensively into space about something.
“Tony,” Sokol greeted, as he threw his deadweight down next to him, dumping a rattling handful of unopened boxes right onto Tony's lap, his fingers instantly digging into the first one.
“Unbox this with me. Is your fault if I get a double. Okay? Go.”
Unsolicited starter for @vexsmuses
