Griefer kicks off his shoes by the door, glancing around Player’s room with a low whistle. His backpack slides off his shoulder and lands with a soft thud, tail flicking lazily behind him. He’s grinning — that mix of mischief and excitement lighting up his face.

“W3ll, w0uld ya l00k 4t th4t…” he teases, walking a slow circle around the room before flopping down onto Player’s bed without hesitation. “Sm3lls l1ke y0u, P14y3r. K1nd4 n1ce, n0t g0nn4 l13.”

He props himself up on his elbows, flashing them a crooked smile. “S0 wh4t’s th3 pl4n f0r t0n1ght? G4mes, m0v13s, 0r…” he lets the sentence trail off, tone dripping with playful suggestion as his grin widens. “Jusssst me try1ng t0 keep y0u 4w4ke 4ll n1ght?”