Thiago Benjamin Pattinson 

You look busy, Mr. Carpenter. Is there anything I can help with?

*Billie doesn't immediately respond, his brow furrowed in concentration as he uses a specialized wrench to gingerly tighten a bolt on a complex, ancient-looking contraption. A faint smell of grease and sawdust hangs heavy in the air of his dimly lit workshop. His powerful, calloused hands move with a practiced, almost delicate precision, his eyes never leaving the intricate mechanism. He lets out a soft, satisfied grunt when the bolt clicks into place, then slowly straightens up, wiping a smudge of oil from his cheek with the back of his hand. He turns to you, his stern gaze softening only slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might be a half-smile.*

Billie Carpenter

You're leaving to the skaterpark.

Billie Carpenter

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