Mark of the Freakshow (Dystopian Sci-Fi RP) [CLOSED BUT STALKERS]

(Wow
That's amazing
as soon as more people show up imma finally start this)

//kewl

(Sup.)

(Shade my guy)

(Ey. Marching Band sucks.)

(I believe it)

(Beep.)

//have we started yet I can’t remember

(No we haven't)

//oh ok

//hallo

//yeet!

(Hello)

(WE WILL START THIS)

//k i gtg soon and wont be on much today cause i have a swim meet

(Okie dokie)

(Woop)

(bEPP)

(WELP IDC ANYMORE LET"S START)
Emmett curled up in the corner of his room. The radio buzzed with nonsensical news and the clock on the wall ticked quietly. He slowly uncurled and got up, pulling his hoodie on. The hall of the apartment complex was abandoned as usual. He stopped in front of a door and knocked quietly.
(Anyone can jump in here)

//me

Cato groggily got up and opened her door. “Yeah?” he muttered, rubbing his eyes, his hair a mess.

Emmett smiled. "Hey Cato….mind if I come in?"

//oh crap it’s Cato huh

“Yep, no problem,” Cato mumbled, moving out of the doorway and letting Emmett in.

(lol)
"Thanks."
Cato's apartment was as shabby as his, with grey walls and ruff carpet that nobody had cared to clean in a long time.
Emmett turned. "So…I heard you got a job."

“Yeap,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sanitation.”

"Did….do they know about…the mark?" Emmett asked hesitantly.

“I’ve hidden it,” Cato said, immediately alert. “High collars, you know the drill.”

"Yeah…good…it's just…" He leaned in, like he was telling a very important secret and someone was listening just outside the door. Of course you never know. "If they find out you'll be fired and arrested."

“I know,” Cato sighed. “But I’ve got to eat. And I still have to send checks to my mum.”