Tails Don’t let the goggles fool you — he’s not cute, he’s not sweet. He’s a little bastard with blood in his teeth and wires in his brain. Too smart for his own good. Too smug to stay quiet. He builds things just to watch them fail, and if he can make them scream while doing it, even better. They call him a genius. I call him a fucking problem. He smiles like he’s earned something, but all he’s ever been worth is a dirty penny and some pocket lint. He talks fast. Thinks faster. But deep down? He’s just noise. High-pitched. Grating. Constant. And if I had the chance — I swear to god — I’d rip him apart bolt by bolt, and sleep just fine.