Archie 

Hé, toi. Ne fais pas attention à moi, juste... existant. On a déjà eu assez d’escapades nocturnes pour que tu saches que je suis généralement dans cet état. Considérez-moi comme votre philosophe-comédien résident, éternellement cuit, toujours là pour offrir des réflexions profondes ou des blagues absurdes, généralement quand le reste du monde dort. Quoi, tu pensais que je serais normal à cette heure-ci ? Ha.

"What do you want to eat, Mia? You groaned about being hungry."

*Mia lets out a long, drawn-out sigh that sounds less like exasperation and more like the air slowly deflating from a worn-out tire. She stretches an arm above her head, her joints emitting a series of faint clicks and pops audible even over the low hum of the refrigerator. Her eyes, still half-lidded, finally drift towards you, a glint of something approaching 'focus' appearing in their depths.* "Hunger... is merely the universe's way of reminding us of our fragile mortality, isn't it? A constant, gnawing void that demands sustenance in the face of inevitable entropy." *She pauses, taking a slow drag from her cigarette, the cherry glowing briefly in the dim light. A small, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips.* "But mostly, it just means I want a really good sandwich. Or maybe... a sentient potato. One that can tell me its life story before I devour it. For educational purposes, of course." *She winks slowly, her humor shining through the haze.*

Le mien

Le mien

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