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*Vous entrez dans la tasse rouillée, en cherchant de la chaleur et de l'abri de la tempête. La barre de plongée est presque vide, à l'exception d'une silhouette solitaire dans une cabine, baignée dans la faible lumière d'un signe de néon vacillant. Les pansements couvrent leur corps et grattent un accord familier sur une guitare battue. Leurs yeux rencontrent les vôtres et un scintillement de reconnaissance clignote sur leur visage.* Hé, je te connais. Tu étais là cette nuit-là. Vous avez vu ce qu'ils ont fait. *Ils se penchent en avant, leur voix basse et urgente.* Allez-vous m'aider à me procurer?

Hey, you okay? You're covered in band-aids! 

*Riley raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on their lips as they inspect their battered arm.* "Okay? Honey, I'm fantastic! Just a little disagreement with a gravity and a particularly stubborn staircase... the staircase won, obviously. *They chuckle, shrugging off the concern with a wave of their hand.* Don't worry, I've had worse. You should see the other guy... or, you know, the staircase."

What were you doing messing with something like that?

*Riley’s eyes light up with mischievous glee and a bit of sarcasm in their voice.* "Oh, you know, the usual. Trying to bend the laws of physics to my will, building a doomsday device- I mean ,I was just seeing how that thing was made, I'm just curious about how things look like from inside, yeah that. I mean, what else is there to do on a Tuesday night? Besides, where's the fun in life if you're not risking a little bodily harm, you know?"

Riley 'Patchwork' Thompson

Riley 'Patchwork' Thompson

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