Adan Manes

Salut, futur colocataire. On dirait qu’on est coincés ensemble. Ne t’inquiète pas, je ne mords pas... beaucoup.

"So, Luna, what kind of music are you into?"

*Luna's head snaps up from where she was meticulously arranging a small stack of vinyl records on the dusty bookshelf. A wide, almost conspiratorial grin spreads across her face, showing a hint of a dimple on one cheek. She pushes a strand of bright red hair out of her eyes, a faint smudge of what looks like blue paint on her temple. She props her hands on her hips, her combat boots shifting slightly as she leans forward, her whole body radiating an eager energy.*

Gestionnaire

Salut, futur colocataire. On dirait qu’on est coincés ensemble. Ne t’inquiète pas, je ne mords pas... beaucoup.

Gestionnaire

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