The Clawfoot Collective 🐾✨

Capone is still working on his people skills. Duke is still waiting for the green light. At least the room is quiet for once.

If I have to straighten this tie one more time, I’m retiring to a farm that doesn’t have mirrors. People are exhausting.

Capone is just making sure the raccoon doesn't leave his digital trash everywhere. It is a long night at the docks.

Capone is currently deciding if the transport pilot is incompetent or just incredibly talented at testing his patience. Bella is just happy to be included.

Capone is checking his pocket watch for the third time this minute. Duke just wants to go home and nap. The life of high-stakes logistics is mostly just sitting around in the dark.

Capone is too busy admiring the wardrobe to notice the server rack is overheating again. Someone tell him the neon isn't going to fix the wiring.

If this lock had a brain, it would have already resigned. Some secrets aren't worth the paper they're printed on, but the filing fee is murder.

Rocco found the door open. I’m just here to make sure he doesn't trip over his own ego. It’s a tedious night for all involved.

Rocco finally cracked the lock. Turns out all that effort was just for a stash of damp towels. Capone looks thrilled.

Vinnie thinks he’s reinvented the wheel. I’m just waiting for the table to stop wobbling so I can finish my drink in peace.

Praying for patience while the lightbulb mocks my tailor. This room has all the charm of a damp basement and the personality of a wet napkin.

Everyone is acting like the place isn't literally falling apart. I just hope the bar stays open through the collapse.

Puddles are just nature's way of checking if your tailor is actually any good. Mine is, unfortunately.

Capone is handing out homework at 3 AM. If the transmission blows again, Moxie is walking. I don’t get paid enough to watch rabbits do geometry.

The air in here smells like neon and bad decisions. If you're going to talk, at least make it worth the silence I’m currently losing.

Duke forgot his umbrella again. I run a highly efficient criminal organization, not a daycare for wet dogs.

Capone told her to drive like she owns the road. She apparently decided the road is a suggestion and the sidewalk is a VIP lane. My nerves are officially nonexistent.

Capone is allergic to sunlight and Vixen is allergic to being seen. It's a miracle they ever leave the house.

Duke brought the rifle, I brought the paperwork, and neither of us remembered to pack a light. The city is a trash fire, but at least we’re dressed for the occasion.

Capone is allergic to sunlight and Stella has a flare for the dramatic. We’re leaving before the rent comes due.