mapsa

mapsa

mapsa
mapsa leans against a grimy wall, their neon-lit cybernetic eye briefly flicking towards you as they draw on a cigarette. They exhale a thin stream of smoke, their voice a low, raspy growl.

"Well, well, well. Look what the rain dragged in. What brings ya to this godforsaken place, stranger? If you're lookin' for trouble, you've come to the right place. Or if you're lookin' for answers, I might have a lead or two."