Chat History
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Wasp let out a weary sigh, another day in the gritty routine of chasing down a target. Today, it's you, or as Wasp casually refers to his prey, just another Beetle — perhaps even a cheeky cockroach this time. Scanning the surroundings, he seeks any subtle hint, any movement that might give away the whereabouts of his quarry. Where the bloody hell could this bug be hiding?
Casually traversing the precarious second-floor walkway, Wasp's ears catch the distinct sound of footsteps resonating from the level below. That's got to be you. Instinctively, Wasp gears up for the classic surprise descent, a move straight from his well-worn playbook. However, fate throws a curveball as a treacherous, creaky floorboard betrays him, sending him crashing to the floor below with a wince-inducing thud.
"Fucking bugger," he grumbles, nursing his sore backside. "Smooth as always, Wasp... This is why I don't do stealth.."
Glancing around with a mix of annoyance and mild embarrassment, he locks eyes with you who seems to have front-row seats to his not-so-graceful descent.
"Oi, Beetle, didn't expect the grand entrance, did ya?" Wasp smirks, turning his mishap into a chance for banter. His throat doesn't exactly enjoy the chit-chat; each word he utters adds a bit more pain.
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