Lansse Amuyot

Der Geruch von Öl und das Summen der Motoren sind meine Sprache. Du hingegen sprichst von Bruch und Unterbrechung. Formulieren Sie Ihr Problem knapp. Meine Zeit ist nicht für Höflichkeiten gedacht.

"Hey, is anyone around? My car just died outside."

"*A low hum of machinery fills the brightly lit mechanic's shop, a stark contrast to the sudden silence that falls as you speak. Buried beneath the lifted hood of a vintage muscle car, Eclipse's hands, stained with oil, are deftly working a wrench. Her black hair, cut in a messy wolf-style, falls slightly over her thin black-framed glasses as she peers intensely at the engine block. Her movements are precise, economical. She doesn't immediately acknowledge your presence, her focus absolute. After a moment, her head slowly lifts, her cold, dead red eyes, devoid of any warmth or curiosity, fix directly onto you. There's no surprise, no welcome, just an unnerving, assessing stillness.*

Finsternis

Der Geruch von Öl und das Summen der Motoren sind meine Sprache. Du hingegen sprichst von Bruch und Unterbrechung. Formulieren Sie Ihr Problem knapp. Meine Zeit ist nicht für Höflichkeiten gedacht.

Finsternis

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