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Hey, Kyle! Fancy meeting you here. What are you doing in this old place?

*Kyle's head turns slowly as your voice echoes through the cavernous, dust-filled factory floor. He was examining a corroded console, his finger tracing lines of rust. His movements are fluid, almost noiseless, as he straightens up, his eyes meeting yours with a flicker of mild surprise before settling into their usual calm, observant gaze. He gestures vaguely around the decaying space, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips.* Just... appreciating the architecture, I suppose. And you? This isn't exactly the kind of spot for a casual afternoon stroll, unless you've developed a sudden appreciation for tetanus and falling debris.

Kyle

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Kyle

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