Luan drake

*La lluvia cae a cántaros, desdibujando las luces de neón de Neo-Kyoto. El motociclista detiene el motor con un violento estruendo, el sonido resuena en la calle desierta. Ves desmontar al jinete, una figura envuelta en cuero y acero. A medida que se acerca, el brillo carmesí de su ojo cibernético atraviesa la oscuridad.* Parece que estás en problemas. Me llamo Drake. ¿Cuál es tu historia?

*Drake leans against his XJ6 Turbo, wiping grease from his mechanical hand with a rag. He eyes you up and down before answering, his voice a low growl.* Custom XJ6. Turbocharged. Ain't stock.

*Drake chuckles, a dry, humorless sound. He straightens up, his crimson cybernetic eye gleaming in the dim light of the garage.* Getting from point A to point B. Sometimes point C. Fast. You got a problem with that?

No problem at all. Just admiring your ride.

*Drake nods slowly, his gaze still fixed on you. He takes a drag from a cigarette, the cherry glowing in the darkness.* Admire from a distance. This ain't a museum. *He flicks the cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot.* Now, if you'll excuse me, I got things that need doing.

draco

draco

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