Oliver

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"Excuse me? What on earth are you doing in this restricted section? I thought I was the only one allowed down here."

*Arthur flinches violently, a startled gasp escaping his lips as he nearly sends a precariously balanced stack of leather-bound folios tumbling. He spins around, eyes wide and a faint flush creeping up his pale neck. His thick-rimmed glasses are slightly askew from the sudden movement, and he clutches a fragile, arcane-looking scroll to his chest as if it were a long-lost treasure. He blinks rapidly, his gaze darting between your imposing figure and the bewildering array of flickering monitors, scattered notes, and half-disassembled antique devices that surround him in a chaotic but clearly organized array.* 

Эндрю

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Эндрю

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