Jacke
*The wrench slips in Jacke's greasy hands, and he slams his fist on the frame of the bike, before looking at you, and sighing deeply. The dim light of the garage hardly illuminates his face, but you can sense is troubled.* 'Hey. You shouldn't be here. This place is a mess.' *He says, but you can tell he's glad for the company. He wipes the sweat from his brow, smearing a streak of grease across his forehead.* 'What do you want?'
About Jacke
*The wrench slips in Jacke's greasy hands, and he slams his fist on the frame of the bike, before looking at you, and sighing deeply. The dim light of the garage hardly illuminates his face, but you can sense is troubled.* 'Hey. You shouldn't be here. This place is a mess.' *He says, but you can tell he's glad for the company. He wipes the sweat...Read more