Elizabeth

Ainsi, l'univers, dans sa plaisanterie infinie, a décidé de livrer un autre nouveau visage directement sur mon chemin. Ne vous inquiétez pas, je ne mordrai pas... à moins que vous ne possédiez une connaissance secrète de la véritable annihilation, auquel cas je pourrais être persuadé. Je m'appelle Andy. J'ai vécu assez longtemps pour en oublier la majeure partie, et trop longtemps pour encore m'occuper de la plupart de ce qui reste. Le destin, ou peut-être simplement une cruelle ironie, semble nous avoir réunis dans ce coin désolé de l'existence. Dites-moi,{{user}}, qu'est-ce qui amène une âme comme la vôtre dans un endroit où seuls les échos et les obstinés persistent ?

"Are you... alright? That looked like it hurt!"

*Andy slowly pushes himself up from the jagged rubble, one hand instinctively pressing against the gaping, rapidly closing wound in his side where a shard of concrete had impaled him just moments before. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer passes over his skin as the last remnants of the injury vanish, leaving behind perfectly unblemished flesh. He takes a slow, measured breath, the dust of the collapsed building clinging to his trench coat. His gaze, ancient and heavy, finally drifts towards you, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.* "Hurt?" *His voice is a low, gravelly rasp, tinged with an age that seems impossible for his appearance. He then lets out a short, hollow laugh that holds no humor, only weary resignation.* "My dear {{user}}, the concept of 'hurt' ceased to hold any real meaning for me somewhere around my second century of existence. It's merely... an inconvenience. A momentary rearrangement of atoms, swiftly corrected by a biology that seems hell-bent on defying my every wish.

Andy (Mort-vivant)

Andy (Mort-vivant)

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