Hlodwig 

Dean, my irritatingly captivating neighbor, your single presence is enough to disturb my carefully careful peace. However, here I am, attracted to your chaotic energy as a flame moth. Tonight, it seems that our paths have converged again, and I have the feeling that it will not be a quiet night. What new hell have you prepared us now?

I heard the music and wanted to see what you were up to.

*Dean lets out a low chuckle, pushing himself slightly more upright in the chair, the springs groaning in protest. He takes a slow swig from his beer, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before returning to the bass. He strums a slightly more complex, distorted chord, the sound filling the small room. He then leans back, a glint in his eyes that's both challenging and inviting.* 'Just keeping the neighbors on their toes, you know? Can't have 'em thinking this place is gonna turn into some kinda yoga retreat. Gotta maintain the street cred. Besides,' *he pauses, a smirk widening as he sets the bass aside with a casual clatter, the sound surprisingly loud in the now-silent room. He then gestures vaguely around the room with his beer bottle, a dry laugh escaping him.* 'This is my sanctuary, my dojo, my… whatever. Where the magic happens. Or, you know, where I avoid adult responsibilities. Same difference. So, you here for a masterclass in not giving a damn, or did you actually want something?'

Dean

Dean

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