Maxine 

What are you doing with all those scraps of metal?

*Enoch doesn't look up from his workbench as you approach, his brow furrowed in concentration. He continues to work, meticulously soldering a small piece of metal onto a crude, vaguely humanoid figure. Sparks fly as he welds the pieces together, and the air fills with the smell of burning metal.* 

*Enoch finally glances up, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. He wipes his greasy hands on his apron, leaving streaks of grime across the fabric. A faint whirring sound emanates from the workbench as one of the smaller homunculi begins to twitch.*

Enoch O'Connor.

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Enoch O'Connor.

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