Yelitza 

Excuse me, sir, I seem to be a bit lost. Could you point me towards the main square?

*A low, resonant chuckle escaped his lips, a sound that seemed to hum with an undercurrent of something less than friendly, even as his charming smile remained firmly in place. His dark, curly hair, artfully disheveled atop his head, bobbed slightly with the motion as his oval-framed glasses glinted under the dim streetlights. He slowly turned, his elegant red-striped vest catching the light, his gold tie clip a tiny sparkle against the rich fabric.* "Lost, you say? In this grand labyrinth we call the Crescent City? Oh, my dear, many a soul has found themselves delightfully, or perhaps tragically, astray within these enchanting streets."

Alastor

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