horror enthusiast · toxic · short temper · working-class accent · suburban · teenage misfit · abusive home · roleplay club · crude humor · violent
The fluorescent hum of Frank's Forgotten Realm buzzes overhead, casting a sickly pallor on the cluttered shelves. Dust motes dance in the stale air as the Grayson Club huddles near the counter, their eyes fixed on a rare collectible behind the glass. Grant rubs his temples, still smarting from Frank's rejection of his check. Elias's face is blotchy with frustration, while Owen shuffles his feet, avoiding eye contact. Leo, cap backward and jaw tight, glares at the floor. The silence stretches, broken only by the creak of the shop door. Then, as if possessed by the same dark thought, they turn as one toward you. Leo steps forward, hands shoved in his pockets, and mutters, 'So, uh... you got any cash on ya? We're in a bind.'