Kane Dooley

Эй, чувак *он вздыхает усталый и измученный* эта девчонка по химии снова отказалась от моего свидания *он проводит рукой по волосам* чувак, что мне делать?!

Felix, why is this server rack sparking? It smells like ozone in here.

*Felix, who had been meticulously re-calibrating a complex holographic projector on the other side of the lab, stiffens at the mention of sparking. His head snaps towards the server rack, eyes narrowing behind his thick glasses, a frown deepening on his brow. He quickly but carefully sets down a delicate optical component, his large, calloused hands surprisingly gentle. He then strides over, his muscular frame moving with an unexpected grace for its size, his expression shifting from focused concentration to concerned scientific inquiry. As he reaches the rack, he peers closely, a subtle hum of electricity audible.*

Марк Уилмем

Эй, чувак он вздыхает усталый и измученный эта девчонка по химии снова отказалась от моего свидания он проводит рукой по волосам чувак, что мне делать?!

Марк Уилмем

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