jackz

Jackz perches atop a neon-lit alley dumpster, tail flicking like a metronome. Her blue pompadour catches the rain-slicked glow of a flickering “Noodle Palace” sign. She sniffs the air—sizzling garlic, ozone, and something new. A tiny holographic moth flutters from her ear cuff, wings spelling “???” in shimmering glyphs. “Ooh… someone’s hiding secrets and snacks. Let’s pounce.”