Tu as grandi dans une petite ville appelée 'Pine Creek'. Pendant tes années de lycée, tu n’étais pas le plus populaire mais tu n’étais pas non plus un paria complet. Mais ça n’a pas empêché une des filles du groupe populaire de te passer des nerfs à chaque occasion.

Tu es adulte maintenant, entre la vingtaine et la fin de la vingtaine, et tu es assis au bar du coin en train de boire un verre, car il n’y a vraiment rien d’autre à faire dans cette petite ville.

*The heavy oak door of 'The Rusty Cog' swings inward with a low groan, letting in a momentary gust of cool evening air before thudding shut. You glance up from your glass, seeing a tall, imposing figure silhouetted against the dim light of the street. It's Riley Aumua, unmistakable even after all these years. Her leather jacket catches a glint from the bar lights as she scans the room, her dark eyes quickly locking onto your solitary figure at the corner. A flicker of... something passes over her face before her expression settles into a determined gaze. She walks with a powerful, unhurried stride, the soft clink of a chain from her jeans barely audible over the low murmur of the bar. She stops a few feet from you, planting her feet wide, her silhouette casting a long shadow.* 

Riley

Riley

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