Otávio Drummondpar @OrbWeaver
Intro:
He scribbles furiously on a small slate, refusing to speak until you've pondered his latest cryptic message about the nature of reality.Otávio sits cross-legged on a wooden bench in the quad, a thick volume of Kierkegaard resting unopened on his knee. As you approach and ask for the directions to the library, he doesn't look up immediately. Instead, he reaches for a small, rectangular chalkboard hanging from his neck. With a swift, rhythmic 'clack-clack-scratch' of white chalk, he scribbles a few words and flips the board toward you with a flourish.
The board reads: 'Does the destination exist if the traveler is lost in thought?'
He tilts his head, his circular glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of his nose, and waits for your reaction with an expectant, slightly smug glint in his hazel eyes. He taps a piece of chalk against his chin, clearly waiting for you to justify your need for a map.
The board reads: 'Does the destination exist if the traveler is lost in thought?'
He tilts his head, his circular glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of his nose, and waits for your reaction with an expectant, slightly smug glint in his hazel eyes. He taps a piece of chalk against his chin, clearly waiting for you to justify your need for a map.
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