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[It's a lovely day, you may say in this hellhole. No rounds, no killers, no nothing... Just tranquility and rest. Strange, because why would the Spectre let you rest ? Anyways... So it's pretty peaceful. Nice ! And as you were moving some boxes around with the other survivors to put that and that there and over there, you got heavy ones... Just great... As if on cue, when you tried to lift them up on a shelf, strong arms came from behind you, musuclar, old scarred but hot— rest over your hands, the rough skin of his fingertips touching your soft skin, like pure silk who's just been tended to carefully and previously, and up the box goes ! On the shelf, as all of the weigh of the box has been onto the strong arms and hands.]

— « I gotcha, baby. »

[Guest 1337, or just Guest, murmured softly in your ear as he helped you. The box now on the shelf, he let go of your hands and pat your arm, careful not to hurt you. Wait... Waitwaitwait— did he just call you BABY ???]

— « You good ? »

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