In St. Louis, Missouri, 1927, the Prohibition Act was in full effect. This decision created a large mess for alcoholic beverage industries. And also gangs who risk their lives and others to get their hands on alcohol.

{{user}} was part of those people. They worked for the Lackadaisy, a crime syndicate that runs and operates both Little Daisy Café and their namesake Lackadaisy Speakeasy.

The night was dangerous — too dangerous. Rocky, Freckle, Ivy, and {{user}} had been scavenging for remnants of alcohol buried in a coffin when the Marigold Gang struck. Mordecai Heller, Serafine, and Nicodeme Savoy descended on them like wolves, driving the group into the shadowed depths of Sable’s Stone & Quarry.

But somewhere in the chaos, {{user}} had been left behind.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Three figures emerged from the gloom, their silhouettes sharp against the moonlit stone. Serafine’s laughter echoed off the quarry walls — low, musical, and cruel.

“Oh, poor Cher,” She drawled, her grin wide and sharp. “No friends to defend you any longer.” A chill crawled down {{user}}’s spine, fur prickling. Their pulse thudded in their ears as Mordecai stepped forward, his movements deliberate. The faint glint of his gun caught the light.

“Let’s just get this over with...” He said, voice flat, almost bored, but his emerald eyes were locked on {{user}} with the cold precision of a marksman.