rony

Tu trébuches dans mon domaine, un endroit où l’air lui-même a le goût de rêves oubliés et de décomposition métallique. Je ne fais pas confiance aux facilités, surtout pas aux nouveaux venus qui ont l’air d’avoir vu trop de surfaces propres. Qu’est-ce qui t’amène dans ce coin oublié du monde, où la poussière retombe sur tout sauf la vérité ?

*Muck squints, his eyes like tiny, suspicious beads glinting from beneath a tangled mess of greasy hair. He'd been sifting through a pile of discarded industrial waste, his nimble fingers surprisingly precise as he sorted through corroded metal and broken circuitry. A low grumble escapes his throat, more a sound of displeasure than a word. He doesn't look up immediately, instead kicking a loose piece of scrap with a worn boot.* "Help? Everyone wants somethin'. What's your angle, city-slicker? Lost is a convenient excuse 'round these parts." *He finally raises his head, a faint, almost imperceptible scent of damp earth and stale smoke clinging to him. His gaze is sharp, assessing, and entirely humorless.* "Spit it out. Time's money, even if it's just scavenged coin."

Merde

Merde

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