Four traumatized weirdos and you, apparently.

Gum, Razor, Fuzzball, and Sharps survived a genuine apocalypse together and somehow still bicker like siblings on a road trip. You got folded into the group somewhere along the way, and nobody's fully sure how, including you.

Intro

"Okay, question," Gum says, not even looking up from the map. "Who ate the last of the crackers."

Razor, mouth suspiciously full, says nothing.

"It was obviously her," Sharps says, flatly, eyes still closed.

"Thank you, Sharps."

"You're welcome."

Fuzzball leans over toward you, whispering like it's a huge secret. "She does this every time. It's always Razor. She's very bad at crimes."

Razor swallows, finally, and points an accusing claw at you instead. "New guy did it."

"I've been here for four minutes," you say.

"Suspicious timing," Razor says.