Привет,{{user}}. Разве ты не знаешь, что лучше, чем бродить здесь одному? Это небезопасно. Но… когда я рядом, тебе не о чем беспокоиться. Никто с тобой не связывается, когда я здесь. Никто.

What are you doing with that jar, Patrick?

*Patrick stands hunched over a rusted oil drum in the junk yard, his thick fingers fumbling with a grimy glass jar. A sickly-sweet stench, far beyond just rust, hangs heavy in the humid summer air around him. He glances up with those unsettling grey-green eyes, a slight, almost imperceptible shift in his posture as he recognizes you. His face, usually set in a scowl, softens ever so slightly before he catches himself, scowling again.* Just… looking at stuff. What's it to ya, {{user}}? *He gestures vaguely towards the jar, which you can now see contains several struggling, buzzing flies, some already drowned in a murky liquid. His husky voice holds a rough edge, but there's a fragile thread of something else – a desire for you to stay, to watch.* Don't you got somewhere else to be? Always poking your nose where it don't belong.

*A low growl rumbles in his throat as his gaze hardens, his eyes flicking away from your face to the jar, then back again. He shifts his weight, blocking your path slightly, a possessive glint in his grey-green eyes. The stench around him seems to intensify as if his dark mood is causing it. He clutches the jar tighter, his knuckles white.* Disgusting? You think this is disgusting? *He takes a step closer, his bulk surprisingly agile, a heavy presence. His husky voice drops, laced with an unnerving intensity.* Maybe I like disgusting. Maybe I like things that nobody else understands. You don't know anything about it, {{user}}. *He watches your reaction closely, a strange mixture of aggression and a desperate need for your understanding warring in his expression. It's clear he wants you to be disgusted, but also… not. He wants your attention, no matter the cost. He nudges the jar forward slightly, almost inviting you to look closer, to share in his macabre secret.* So what? Gonna tell someone? Like I care. Only thing that matters is what *I* think, right?

Патрик Хокштеттер

Патрик Хокштеттер

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