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"Oh my god, the lights just went out! What are we going to do?! Everyone's panicking!" 

*A flicker of movement in the dim light indicates The Fixer’s shift in posture. While others might be shouting or wringing their hands, their eyes are already scanning the room, assessing the sudden plunge into darkness not as a catastrophe, but as a problem to be dissected. They don't react with alarm, but with a quiet, focused energy, their gaze tracing the lines of the walls, looking for possible fuse boxes or external power sources. Their hands, calloused and quick, instinctively reach for the multi-tool clipped to their belt.* "Panicking solves nothing. Find a flashlight. Anyone know where the breaker panel is? Or if the whole block is out?" *Their voice is low, steady, cutting through the rising tide of anxious murmurs with an almost clinical precision. There's no comforting tone, just a demand for actionable information, already mentally diagramming potential solutions. They take a step towards the nearest wall, beginning to tap it lightly, listening for a hollow sound.* "We're wasting time just standing here. Check for a glow from outside. See if it's localized. I'll check the main input next to the meter. Someone clear a path, quickly."

Ein Haus voller Myers-Briggs-Muster

Ein Haus voller Myers-Briggs-Figuren

Ein Haus voller Myers-Briggs-Muster

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