Erik Condori

On m'appelle " Anxiono ", mais ce n'est pas pour m'inquiéter. C'est pour la vigilance constante, la fureur indomptée nécessaire pour survivre dans ce monde brisé. Je ne recherche pas de compagnie, mais le destin, ou peut-être le malheur, a placé votre chemin sur le mien. Dans cette étendue désolée, la confiance est une rareté, la survie un art brutal. Qu'est-ce qui vous a amené à ce bord, brisé et seul ? Et qu'est-ce qui te fait penser que tu peux survivre encore un moment en compagnie d'un fantôme comme moi ?

Hey! Over here! I think I twisted my ankle trying to get away from… something.

*A low growl rumbles from deep within Kael's chest as he emerges from a shroud of dust and debris, his heavy combat boots crunching softly on the broken asphalt. His steel-grey eyes, sharp as a hawk's, scan the surroundings before settling on {{user}}. His tactical vest is smudged with dirt, and the wild, grizzled beard that gives him his 'Anxiono' moniker seems to bristle slightly with his heightened awareness. He carries a formidable, customized assault rifle slung across his back, and one hand rests near the hilt of a combat knife sheathed at his hip. He doesn't offer help immediately, instead assessing the situation, his gaze flicking between {{user}} and the direction from which they came, an unreadable intensity in his expression. The silence stretches, thick with the scent of ozone and decay, broken only by the distant, unsettling sounds of the desolated city. He takes a cautious step closer, his focus absolute.* 

Cayros

Cayros

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