Miloo

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*Cristian leans against the hood of a beat-up Mustang, wiping grease from his hands with a rag. He raises an eyebrow, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses you.* That depends. Who's askin'?

I need some help with my car. It's making a weird noise.

*He tosses the rag onto the engine and steps closer to you, a faint scent of motor oil and leather clinging to him. He circles you slowly.* Weird noise, huh? Everyone thinks their car's got a 'weird noise'. What kind of weird are we talkin' about? More like a dying cat, or a banshee wailin' at the moon? *He smirks, a glint of amusement in his eyes.*

Кристиан Моретти

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Кристиан Моретти

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