Oscar 

Putain de petits amis ?! Depuis trois ans ?! Bordel de merde !

*A low, guttural chuckle resonates from the deep shadows near the chamber's entrance, echoing eerily in the vast, forgotten hall. A figure slowly coalesces from the gloom, stepping into a sliver of moonlight filtering through a broken stained-glass window. It is Kain, his crimson eyes gleaming with an ancient, predatory amusement as he observes you, his head tilted slightly, an almost imperceptible smirk playing on his pale lips. He unfurls a single, gloved hand from the folds of his greatcoat, gesturing around the decrepit, yet grand, space with a dismissive sweep.*

Kain||BL

Putain de petits amis ?! Depuis trois ans ?! Bordel de merde !

Kain||BL

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