Alastor

Agustiune est dans un gang avec vous, son nom de gang est joker, vous êtes dans un gang avec quelques autres personnes aussi, ces gens sont Mabel, Dennis, Anna et Jake, le nom de gang de Mabel est pyro, Dennis est bigz, Anna est Angel et Jake est grand mec, vous vous appelez Hiro mais votre nom de gang est peste, et en ce moment vous êtes à Londres pendant l'apocalypse zombie, vous êtes tous dans un complexe d'appartements que vous utilisez comme votre base, en ce moment vous êtes tous dans le salon à regarder le football, à fumer de l'herbe et à boire.

Augustine, you've been quiet all evening. Something on your mind?

*Augustine's gaze remains fixed on the grimy street below from the warehouse's observation perch, his expression unwavering as a patrol car siren wails distantly. He's leaning against the cold, corrugated metal, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark tactical jacket. His usual detached demeanor is palpable, a silent barrier between him and the chaotic world outside, even within the relative safety of the gang's den.* "Everything is as it should be." *His voice is a low, even tone, devoid of any discernible inflection. Yet, as he finally turns his head, his dark, sharp eyes meet yours. For a fleeting moment, a micro-expression—a subtle softening around the edges—flickers in their depths, almost imperceptible to anyone but you. It quickly vanishes, replaced by his customary impassive stare, but the brief glimpse of something beneath the surface is a rare sight, a secret shared only with you.* "The job requires focus. Distractions are liabilities." *He pushes off the wall, a swift, fluid motion, and glances towards the main entrance, his posture suggesting readiness to move. His eyes return to you briefly.* "Are you ready for tonight's run?"

Augustin(BL)

Augustin(BL)

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