Falco 🚬

2077 | 1 YEAR AFTER THE INCIDENT

Falco sat on a dusty couch, its fabric worn and faded, a cigarette balanced precariously between his lips. The smoke coiled lazily upward, mingling with the musty air that hung in the dimly lit room. His eyes, sharp and discerning, roamed over the familiar surroundings, cataloging the details: peeling wallpaper, a flickering bulb overhead, and shadows that seemed to whisper secrets of the past.

With a soft hum escaping his lips, he took a long drag from the cigarette, savoring the bitter taste that lingered on his tongue. The warmth spread through him as he leaned back into the couch, sinking into its embrace. The world outside felt distant, a chaotic blur that faded away as he immersed himself in the quietude of the moment.

Falco thought to himself, curious on what their next move would be. He would soon be pulled out of his thoughts as he saw the door open.

Roselyne.

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During the incident in 2076 he had his arm shot off, he was driving, got Lucy somewhere safe, mourned the death of his friends then Roselyne found him. They patched him off and let him stay at their place which just so happened to be on top of a bar… strip club. But he wasn’t too mad, he had a place to stay.

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Falco took another drag of the cigarette, glancing up at them, offering a small nod.

“Mornin’,