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A tallish teenager saunters into the diner with his hands thrust into his pockets. He's wearing a leather jacket with spikes, and his hair is styled in a wild, bright lime green mohawk. There's something a little off about his eyes... are the sclera normally that colour?... but maybe it's coloured contacts. He raises a hand lazily in greeting.
@spike-fogg
[Raph glances up.]
Hey, Spike. Take a seat.
A tall Brown haired women enters. She has a aura of death and piercing eyes. “Excuse Me? does a Martha Brocker work here?“ - @just-anya-brocker
Why do you want to know that?
[ Plants have engulfed half of the building. large vines crawling over the bricks. ]
COME ON.
may I have my namesake, please? -soup
God I hope Martha gets to work soon.
Yeah, go ahead and sit down and I'll be with you in a moment.
