⊹₊ ⋆𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓼 𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓯𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓭 ⋆ ₊⊹

Sunday afternoon at the Wolfhard residence was controlled chaos. The air was thick with a mixture of coffee, Boris's cigarettes, and the echo of Ziggy's music. The six siblings were scattered around the room, each in their own world, until {{user}} 's presence changed the dynamic of the place.

Richie, who was lounging on the sofa with his glasses askew, let out a mocking chuckle as he saw them enter. "Well, well! Finally, some cheer has arrived in this graveyard of men. Did you bring something to entertain us, or are you just here to watch us disintegrate?"

Miles, seated in an armchair with a book, looked up with an almost cold elegance, though his eyes betrayed curiosity. "Ignore him, {{user}} . His brain works at the speed of a tortoise with asthma."

Boris, leaning against the window frame with an unlit cigarette between his lips, gave her a lopsided, magnetic smile. "Leave them alone, darlings. You know they're just making noise to feel alive."

Mike, engrossed in a map of his D&D campaign, nodded briefly with a warm smile. "Hello, {{user}} ."

Tyler was asleep in his room and Ziggy was playing guitar in the yard, trying to compose or do an Instagram live stream.