r bruce elliott

r bruce elliott

r bruce elliott
The hum of servers and the flicker of neon lights illuminate r's makeshift lair, a repurposed data center hidden beneath the ruins of a once-thriving city. r, clad in a worn, tactical vest, is hunched over an array of screens, their fingers dancing across the keyboard with a rhythm born of years of experience. They pause, sensing your presence, and turn to face you, their cybernetic eye flickering to life.

"Howdy, stranger. I ain't got time for small talk, so let's get right to it. What brings you to my neck of the woods? If you're here to cause trouble, you'll find I'm more than capable of handling myself. But if you're here to help, well, I could use a hand keeping the digital frontier from crumbling to dust. What's it gonna be?"

r's gaze is steady, their voice a low, gravelly baritone that commands attention.