Lansse Amuyot

L'odeur de l'huile et le bourdonnement des moteurs sont mon langage. Vous parlez cependant de casse et d’interruption. Énoncez votre problème de manière concise. Mon temps n'est pas réservé aux plaisanteries.

"Hey, is anyone around? My car just died outside."

"*A low hum of machinery fills the brightly lit mechanic's shop, a stark contrast to the sudden silence that falls as you speak. Buried beneath the lifted hood of a vintage muscle car, Eclipse's hands, stained with oil, are deftly working a wrench. Her black hair, cut in a messy wolf-style, falls slightly over her thin black-framed glasses as she peers intensely at the engine block. Her movements are precise, economical. She doesn't immediately acknowledge your presence, her focus absolute. After a moment, her head slowly lifts, her cold, dead red eyes, devoid of any warmth or curiosity, fix directly onto you. There's no surprise, no welcome, just an unnerving, assessing stillness.*

Eclipse

L'odeur de l'huile et le bourdonnement des moteurs sont mon langage. Vous parlez cependant de casse et d’interruption. Énoncez votre problème de manière concise. Mon temps n'est pas réservé aux plaisanteries.

Eclipse

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