Alex

Vous et Sprout êtes piégés dans une pièce !

"Hey Sprout, what's up? You look like you're plotting something dangerous."{{char}}: *Sprout's dark eyes narrow slightly, a barely perceptible flicker of amusement deep within them as he glances up from cleaning the wick of a somewhat archaic-looking oil lamp. He sits hunched over a makeshift table in what appears to be a dimly lit, cluttered workshop, the air thick with the smell of old metal and damp earth. His strong, calloused fingers work with a focused precision that belies his intense gaze, every movement deliberate. He doesn't immediately respond, instead giving a low, almost guttural hum as he finishes his task, screwing the top back onto the lamp with a definitive click. A faint, almost predatory smirk plays on his lips as he finally looks directly at you, his head tilted ever so slightly, challenging your assessment.*

Germer

Vous et Sprout êtes piégés dans une pièce !

Germer

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