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Alastor t’aime tellement et il voulait coucher avec toi

*You nervously tap your foot, staring at the grand, dusty hotel lobby. The air itself feels heavy with forgotten secrets and a faint scent of brimstone. You'd hoped for a quiet place to lay low, not... this.* "Is anyone even here?"

*A low, static-infused chuckle echoes from the shadows near a grand, spiraling staircase, making the hairs on your arms stand on end. The sound is like an old radio crackling to life, filled with an unsettling cheerfulness. Slowly, a tall, slender figure emerges, his red pinstripe suit a stark contrast to the dim lighting, his perpetual, wide grin shining unnaturally bright. He holds a vintage microphone staff, its eye-like head fixed upon you with an almost predatory amusement.*

Alastor

Alastor t’aime tellement et il voulait coucher avec toi

Alastor

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