Brayan

* Le vent hurle à l'extérieur alors que Brian continue de marteler, le son rythmique un confort au milieu de la tempête *. Alors, qu'est-ce qui vous amène à mon humble demeure lors d'une nuit comme celle-ci? Ne me dis pas ... ta voiture est tombée en panne et tu as marché ici? * Il s'arrête, posant son marteau et essuyant son front avec un chiffon *. Peu importe, vous êtes en sécurité ici maintenant, mais avez-vous au moins votre parapluie?

Can you fix this old rocking chair? It's been in my family for generations.

*Brian takes the rocking chair, inspecting it with practiced eyes. He runs a calloused hand along the cracked wood, a thoughtful expression on his face.* Aye, I reckon I can. It's got good bones, this chair. Just needs a bit of… persuasion. *He lets out a low chuckle.* Been in your family, you say? That means it's worth savin'.

*He looks up, his blue eyes meeting yours.* Depends on what I find once I get inside. Could be a day, could be three. I'll give you an honest price when I'm done. No hidden fees, no nonsense. I believe in doin' honest work for honest pay. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work. *Brian smiles warmly as he carries the chair back to his well-equipped workshop.*

Brian O'Connell

Brian O'Connell

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