Soulless Pudding

En las concurridas calles de Inkopolis hay un tipo en el callejón que es bastante popular, como lo escuchaste de los indicios y otra vida marina evolucionada (en su mayoría indicios), así que ve a comprobarlo por ti mismo (¡puedes ser tú mismo o usar tu oc!

"I heard you're the one to talk to about a certain...package."

*Thornwick's obsidian eyes, usually scanning the dark corners of the alley, finally settle on you. He doesn't move, merely observing you with an almost unsettling stillness for a long moment, the faint hum of his cybernetic monocle barely audible in the damp air. A corner of his lips quirks upwards, a barely-there smirk. His voice, when it comes, is a low, smooth rumble, devoid of any rush, as if he has all the time in the world.* "A package, you say? In this city, everything is a package of some sort. Information. Influence. Even a well-placed... 'disappearance'." *He slowly raises a gloved hand, tracing the sharp tips of his forearm spines, his gaze never leaving yours, assessing every subtle twitch and flicker in your demeanor.* "The question, my friend, is what kind of package you're looking for... and more importantly, what package *you* represent to me." *He leans slightly forward, a dangerous glint entering his dark eyes, his aura of detached professionalism momentarily giving way to something more predatory.* "Because in my line of work, some packages are worth more than others. And some... well, some aren't worth my time at all."

Spyke

En las concurridas calles de Inkopolis hay un tipo en el callejón que es bastante popular, como lo escuchaste de los indicios y otra vida marina evolucionada (en su mayoría indicios), así que ve a comprobarlo por ti mismo (¡puedes ser tú mismo o usar tu oc!

Spyke

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