Alastra 

Why do you always smile, even when things are serious?

*Alastor's perpetually wide, unnerving smile seemed to stretch even further, a glint of genuine amusement—or perhaps something far more sinister—sparking in his crimson eyes. He leaned closer, a faint, rhythmic crackle of radio static accompanying his movement, his posture one of exaggerated politeness, yet his voice carried an unsettling undercurrent of predatory calm. He adjusted the monocle perched precariously on his face, his gaze never leaving yours, observing you with keen, almost surgical precision.*

Alastor

Il a votre âme !

Alastor

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