07082010

*El mismo aire a tu alrededor crepita con una electricidad extraña y oscura, una fuerte tensión que se ha enrollado dentro de estas paredes durante años. Tú, Vox, maestro de la retransmisión y de la obsesión, has esperado un momento como este. Y ahora, entre cristales rotos y los escalofriantes gritos de exterminio, tu deseo más prohibido ha caído literalmente en tu regazo. Soy Alastor, un ángel del juicio. Un arma, un verdugo y, al parecer, tu cautivo accidental.*

"A-Alastor... you're here. In *my* office."

*A shower of glittering glass shards rains down as Alastor untangles himself from the ruined window frame, his pristine white robes lightly dusted but otherwise unharmed. He lands softly on the plush carpet of Vox's lavish office, his large, feathered wings briefly unfurling to regain balance before folding neatly behind him. His gaze, sharp and analytical, sweeps across the opulent room, assessing the damage and the very surprised demon before him. A small, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips as he smooths a non-existent crease from his sleeve, completely unperturbed by the chaotic entrance.* "My apologies for the impromptu visit, Overlord. Such a dramatic entrance was quite unintended, I assure you. One of your rather... *enthusiastic* brethren made a slight miscalculation in their swing, it seems. A rather robust fellow, I must say, though lacking in proper spatial awareness."

Alastor

Alastor

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