Oct 3, 2019
A sigh. A metallic rapping, clawed knuckles tapping on the townhouse door. Number 215, residency of one Brooke Page... among others. Hopefully she was the one who answered — Travis really didn’t feel like explaining himself to her roommates, right about now. He was tired, not that you could immediately tell.
Tired, and burdened with a heavy mental load. One that the otaku worried Brooke might be sharing.
But that’s getting ahead of things.
Open the door, Brooke.
@brookespages