[h1][color=orange]Archie[/color][/h1]
[hr]
“Well…” Archie began in response, “It [i]is[/i] a game, friend. And plenty of people are gonna be part of it this year.” He took a step around Abraham, looking at the poster.

“But it’s no sinister plot or, [i]criminal undertaking[/i], I assure you.” He continued, “It’s simply what it says. Come to one of my arenas, fight some enemies of my design, win some credits. Credits, of course, being the staple currency aboard the Promise - not sure if they told you so already, thought I might as well. Nothing else to the game, just gotta… [i]take your money[/i], spend it how you like. Better payday than student allowance or most jobs here, I’ll tell you.” He turned his head to Abraham, meeting his gaze (in a sense). “[i]I[/i] am the proprietor of this venture, by the way.” He said, pointing towards the circle with the X in it at the bottom of the poster, akin to the design of his own mask.

“Andrew Malcolm Davis. Archie. Pleasure to meet you.”

He extended his right gloved hand, for a shake.

[@Spoopy Scary]