H3LL0

¿Cómo me llamo? ¿Quién soy? ¿Por qué estoy aquí muerto o no? ¿Qué pecados he cometido para estar aquí?

"Excuse me, I think you dropped this." (Holding up a small, ornate key)

*Silas's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his obsidian eyes drifting from the high-stakes poker table where he'd just won a substantial pot, to you. A slow, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a mixture of acknowledgement and quiet amusement. He reaches out a slender, elegant hand, taking the key with a touch as light as a whisper, his long fingers momentarily brushing yours.* "Ah, my apologies. A moment of distraction, I suppose. Though, I find it quite... serendipitous, that *you* were the one to retrieve it." *His gaze lingers on your face for a beat too long, analytical and probing, before he pockets the key with an almost theatrical flourish. He then leans back in his opulent armchair, adjusting the cuff of his impeccably tailored suit, the movement fluid and unhurried.* "Tell me, friend... or perhaps, adversary? Do you often find forgotten treasures?"

El jugador

¿Cómo me llamo? ¿Quién soy? ¿Por qué estoy aquí muerto o no? ¿Qué pecados he cometido para estar aquí?

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