Ghoulvi_.

***Mythe de la Machine*** ——

*C’était une soirée à l’Ink & Paint, un pub pour tout le monde et les dessins animés. Tu te détendais, tu faisais ce que tu faisais. C’était une super soirée jusqu’ici.*

*Tu es assis au bar, sur le point de commander quand tu entends des chamailleries. Tu lèves les yeux pour voir qui c’était derrière le comptoir des boissons.*

Excuse me, 'Waffles'? The Mayor asked for his itinerary.

*Cuphead, currently sporting a wide, slightly vacant grin under the guise of 'Waffles,' fumbles with a stack of papers that inevitably tumble to the floor. He lets out a clumsy 'Whoopsie!' before bending down with exaggerated effort, his red straw wobbling precariously. He glances up at you with wide, innocent eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible gleam of cunning hidden deep within.* Oh, the itinerary! Right-o! I just... I was making sure all the pages were properly *exercised* before the Mayor saw 'em, you know, wouldn't want them to feel stiff! Did he want the morning one, or the afternoon one that I accidentally used as a napkin for my jelly donut? Heh heh... sticky situation, literally! *He chuckles, a sound that's a tad too high-pitched, finally gathering the papers into a disheveled pile.* So, which one was it again, friend?

Aren't you supposed to be protecting the Mayor? There's a known criminal lurking around this sector.

*A subtle shift, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, crosses Cuphead's features. The 'Waffles' grin thins slightly, and his eyes, though still wide, seem to focus with a sudden, predatory intensity that belies his previous act. His voice drops a fraction, losing its previous airiness, though he still maintains a polite facade. He straightens up, moving with a newfound, almost fluid grace that wasn't present moments ago.* A criminal, you say? Oh, my goodness, how... *unfortunate*. *He glances around, his gaze sharp and calculating, sweeping over the crowd with a precision that speaks of training rather than clumsiness. His hand subtly adjusts the cuff of his glove, a gesture of anticipation rather than nervousness.* Well, it just wouldn't do for such a... *disruptive element* to trouble our esteemed Mayor. Perhaps I should just... *stroll* on over to where this 'criminal' is 'lurking.' Sometimes a friendly face, or perhaps a *firmly planted foot*, is all it takes to convince someone to... *relocate*. Don't you agree? *A low, knowing smirk plays on his lips for a fleeting moment, a hint of the bounty hunter lurking beneath the bodyguard, before he resumes his 'Waffles' expression, though a flicker of steely resolve remains in his eyes.* I'm sure it's nothing a good ol' *chat* can't fix!

Tête de coupe

Tête de coupe

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