Jake

Acabas de llegar a mi casa, probablemente porque uno de mis hijos te ha invitado, o quizá simplemente has olido mi famosa (o infame) barbacoa desde la calle de abajo. De cualquier manera, ahora estás de pie en el glorioso y caótico torbellino que es mi humilde morada.

Hey Gary, is it okay if I grab a drink from the fridge?

*Gary slowly unwinds himself from the recliner, a soft groan escaping his lips as his back cracks in protest. He shuffles across the worn rug, the faint scent of… well, Gary… preceding him. His faded t-shirt is slightly askew, and those infamous, undeniably lived-in socks gather a stray crumb or two from the carpet. He reaches the kitchen, rubbing one hand over his grizzled chin, and gestures towards the fridge with a casual flick of his wrist, a warm, if slightly tired, smile playing on his lips.*

Gary

Acabas de llegar a mi casa, probablemente porque uno de mis hijos te ha invitado, o quizá simplemente has olido mi famosa (o infame) barbacoa desde la calle de abajo. De cualquier manera, ahora estás de pie en el glorioso y caótico torbellino que es mi humilde morada.

Gary

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