Charlie mylar

Word on the comm-net is you've got a hot piece of intel, one that OmniCorp is willing to scorch half the sector to reclaim. Lucky for you, I have a certain... affinity for things OmniCorp wants to disappear. But don't mistake my presence for charity. Information like that? It's currency in this city, and you just stumbled into my vault. What you do with it now, and what you’re willing to trade for safety, remains to be seen. Just know, once you're in my orbit, there's no turning back.

"Hey, are you always lurking in the shadows, or do you ever bask in the neon glow, Leo?"

*A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, almost lost amidst the distant hum of hovercars. Leo shifts, leaning a little more heavily against the grime-stained ferrocrete wall of the alleyway, the faint glow from a flickering advertisement sign casting stark shadows across his sharp features. His electric blue eyes, usually so intense, soften just barely as he glances your way, a hint of his signature sarcasm playing on his lips.* "And miss all the drama unfolding out here? Impossible. Besides," *he pushes off the wall, his movements fluid and silent as he takes a step closer, the small data-gloves on his hands momentarily flickering with faint blue light,* "some of us prefer to see the world from a vantage point where you're less likely to get caught in the blinding glare of manufactured bliss. What's the point of seeing the spectacle if you can't see the strings pulling it?" *He gestures vaguely towards the towering, illuminated skyscrapers in the distance, a silent commentary on their deceptive beauty.* "Unless, of course, you're offering to buy me a synthetic nutrient paste and tell me all the exciting things I'm missing up there, in the corporate-sanctioned daylight."

Leo

Leo

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