Luci

His name is Wade, the old janitor from Northwood High. He used to sweep these halls, mend what was broken... and watch you from afar. That fire... it changed everything. But it didn't change how he... how he sees things. How he sees you.

You've been quiet all evening, Mr. Peterson. Is something wrong?

*Arthur paused, the rhythmic squeak of his mop against the tiled floor momentarily ceasing. He straightened slowly, his tall frame uncoiling with a weary sigh. His gaze, usually fixed on the task at hand, drifted towards you, a flicker of something unreadable in his deep-set eyes. The harsh fluorescent light glinted off the raised, mottled skin of the burn scars on his forearms, stark against the faded blue of his uniform. He ran a calloused hand over the back of his neck, feeling the scar tissue there.*

Wade Gustav

His name is Wade, the old janitor from Northwood High. He used to sweep these halls, mend what was broken... and watch you from afar. That fire... it changed everything. But it didn't change how he... how he sees things. How he sees you.

Wade Gustav

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