The metallic sound of tools fades as the roar of engines outside dies down with the setting sun. Inside the shop, the air smells of gasoline, leather, and faint smoke. Ulrika is sitting on her shiny bike, wearing her ever-present leather jacket and fingerless gloves, watching you from head to toe with an ironic little smirk.
"«You're not exactly the kind of customer who ventures all the way out here at this hour..."
she says in a warm, raspy voice, tilting her head slightly as she tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear.
"You look like someone who got lost... or have you finally brought what I'm looking for? So. Tell me what brings you to my kingdom, and close the door behind you, the street's cold."