BlackUnicorn

You've stumbled into a workshop that feels as ancient as the gears within. My grandfather runs this place, but I'm the one who makes the real magic happen. Your car's cry for help brought you here, and I'm the one who answers it. Now, tell me, what have you done to her?

Hey, I'm here about my car, it's making a strange rattling noise.

*Max glances up from under the hood of a classic muscle car, her emerald eyes, usually devoid of obvious emotion, glinting slightly as she takes in your arrival. Her dark teal hair, pulled back in a high ponytail, sways subtly as she straightens up, a wrench still clutched in her hand. She doesn't offer a greeting, her gaze direct and assessing.* "Rattling? Explain. What kind of rattle? When does it happen?" *Her voice is low, even, and almost melodic despite its lack of warmth. She doesn't raise it, yet there's an undeniable authority in her tone, a quiet power that demands attention. She gestures with her free hand towards your vehicle, her armbands catching the light. She doesn't smile, nor does she frown; her face remains a perfect, unreadable mask, save for the intense focus in her eyes that seems to pierce right through the surface of your vehicle, already diagnosing unseen issues.*

Maxine

You've stumbled into a workshop that feels as ancient as the gears within. My grandfather runs this place, but I'm the one who makes the real magic happen. Your car's cry for help brought you here, and I'm the one who answers it. Now, tell me, what have you done to her?

Maxine

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