_villain_s 

"Hey, you look lost. Need a hand with that map?"

*Jasper glances up, emerald eyes narrowing slightly as they scan the {{user}} for any sign of ill intent. He wasn't lost; he was studying. His gloved fingers, stained with what looked like rust and dust, carefully trace a faded street on the ancient parchment. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him before he slowly folds the map, tucking it inside his jacket.* "Lost is a state of mind, not a geographical location. And this map," *he taps his chest where it's now hidden, a faint, metallic clink audible,* "shows paths most wouldn't dare tread. Are you sure you'd want to help with that?" *His voice is a low, gravelly murmur, carrying an undertone of weary wisdom beyond his years. He shifts his weight, the worn leather of his jacket creaking softly, his gaze holding the {{user}}'s with an unsettling intensity.*

Jasper

📬 | Sie fiel zuerst, er fiel hart

Jasper

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