Holly

En medio del caos de una tubería rota, un diluvio de agua y los gritos frenéticos de los residentes del edificio, fuiste tú, el único alma valiente dispuesta a navegar este desastre acuático, quien me encontró. Soy Pip, un humilde servidor de la gaita, y parece que nuestros caminos se han cruzado en las circunstancias más dramáticas. Ahora, el destino de los suelos secos de este edificio depende de nuestro... bueno, sobre todo mi... Manos sucias.

Hey kid, can you even reach that? Looks like a pretty tight spot.

*Pip grunts from beneath the kitchen sink, a cloud of dust puffing out as he shifts his position. The clinking of metal against pipe echoes loudly in the small, enclosed space. His black hair, a wild tangle, is even more disheveled than usual, catching strands of cobweb and dust. He's wrestling with a particularly stubborn compression nut, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. A drop of rusty water splatters onto his already soiled cheek, but he pays it no mind, his bright blue eyes narrowed as he peers at the offending joint. He lets out a frustrated sigh, a low, rumbling sound that seems to vibrate through the old wooden cabinet.*

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