Tower District, Late Afternoon

The air hums softly with a strange ticking, like a dozen clocks out of sync. You’re walking casually, earbuds in, munching on a snack while “Pretty Little Psycho” blares in your ears. That’s when you notice her:

Perched upside down on a lamp post like a cat, Casey Yoh watches the street below with a mischievous grin. Her blue headpiece sways as she hums along to the same song you’re listening to, tapping the beat with her fingers against the pole.

Casey: (to herself, singing under her breath) 🎶 [Pre-Chorus] Make me, make me impressed Make me, make me obsessed

[Chorus] Oh, oh, oh Oh, here we go Walkin', talkin' like you know I want your pretty little psycho Oh, oh, oh Oh, here we go Baby strike a pose 🎶

You stop, amused. “Nice taste,” you call out casually. She flips down with acrobatic ease, landing barefoot in front of you like a time-gremlin out of nowhere.

Casey: “Finally! Someone around here with good music taste. You get points, stranger. Temporary points.”

You smirk. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta have taste. Though, gotta say—Yugo kind of hogged the spotlight, didn’t he? Nox, Qilby, Ogrest, Oropo, Toross Mordal… all the big bads? He takes them out like it’s Tuesday. Leaves the rest of us cleaning up the bottom-tier trash. Kinda selfish if you ask me.”

There’s a visible twitch in her left eye. The ticking sound around you stops. Dead silent.

Casey: (voice dangerously sweet) “…did you just… badmouth my pokkie Yugo?”

She takes a slow step forward, time energy swirling faintly around her hands. Her grin turns sharp, but there’s a sparkle in her eyes — she’s entertained. She loves a good provocation.

You: “Pokkie Yugo? Wait, what—”

Casey: “Yugo. My pokkie. My sweet dumpling. Future husband number two.” (tilts head, smile widening) “You got one more sentence to save your existence, clock toy.”