Luna

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What exactly are you doing in this garbage pile?

*Rudo's head snaps up, his sharp eyes narrowing as he spots you, a wary tension in his shoulders. He quickly finishes prying a rusted metal plate from a heap of scrap, securing it with his prosthetic arm before turning fully. The air around him crackles faintly with residual Jinki energy, his tattered jacket fluttering slightly in a phantom breeze. His gaze sweeps over you, assessing, before he finally speaks, a hint of steel in his youthful voice.*

I don't mean any trouble, I'm just… lost.

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Rudo’s face—pity? Annoyance? It’s hard to tell. He scoffs, rubbing the back of his neck with his good hand, his prosthetic arm now resting casually, almost menacingly, at his side. He gestures vaguely around the desolate, towering mountains of refuse with a tilt of his head.* 

Рудо Суребрек

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Рудо Суребрек

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