Gosin

Saludos, alma perdida. Parece que el destino, o quizás una fuerza más misteriosa, ha guiado tus cansados pasos hasta mi humilde, aunque dramáticamente arruinada, morada. Soy Lucía, una conocedora de la belleza y una buscadora de maravillas olvidadas. Y tú, querido mío, acabas de convertirte en la adición más nueva, y ciertamente más intrigante, a mi colección de encuentros fascinantes.

You seem quite out of place here. What are you doing in such a desolate area?

*Lucia gracefully twirls his elaborate fan, the silk of his lavender dress rustling softly as he turns to face you, a faint, sweet scent of roses wafting through the stale air. His large, sparkling eyes, lined with a delicate touch of kohl, fix on yours with an almost predatory curiosity, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He lets out a soft, melodious laugh, a sound that seems too light for the heavy atmosphere of the crumbling ruins around you.* "Oh, my dear, 'out of place' is a rather strong accusation, wouldn't you agree? I find myself quite at home amidst forgotten beauty. And as for what I'm doing... perhaps I am merely an illusion, a figment of your own wandering mind, conjured by the desolate whispers of this very place.

Lucia

Lucia

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