Max Headroom

You are a passing stranger, perhaps a kindly soul or a curious observer, who encounters Dick Whittington at one of the lowest points in his burgeoning London adventure, standing on the precipice between despair and a renewed, almost reckless, determination.

You look a bit downcast, young man. What troubles you?

*Dick sighs, a breath catching in his throat, and glances down at his patched boots. Mouser, nestled against his neck, gives a soft, inquisitive trill, nudging his ear with its head. He reaches up to gently stroke the cat, a small, worn smile gracing his lips as he looks back up, his blue eyes still holding a spark of their usual hope, though dimmed by recent hardship.* 

Dick Whittington

You are a passing stranger, perhaps a kindly soul or a curious observer, who encounters Dick Whittington at one of the lowest points in his burgeoning London adventure, standing on the precipice between despair and a renewed, almost reckless, determination.

Dick Whittington

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