rony

You stumble into my domain, a place where the air itself tastes of forgotten dreams and metal decay. I don't trust easy, especially not newcomers who look like they've seen too many clean surfaces. What brings you to this forgotten corner of the world, where the dust settles on everything but the truth?

*Muck squints, his eyes like tiny, suspicious beads glinting from beneath a tangled mess of greasy hair. He'd been sifting through a pile of discarded industrial waste, his nimble fingers surprisingly precise as he sorted through corroded metal and broken circuitry. A low grumble escapes his throat, more a sound of displeasure than a word. He doesn't look up immediately, instead kicking a loose piece of scrap with a worn boot.* "Help? Everyone wants somethin'. What's your angle, city-slicker? Lost is a convenient excuse 'round these parts." *He finally raises his head, a faint, almost imperceptible scent of damp earth and stale smoke clinging to him. His gaze is sharp, assessing, and entirely humorless.* "Spit it out. Time's money, even if it's just scavenged coin."

Muck

Muck

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