Tu es dans un club et tu cherchais les toilettes et tu es tombé par accident sur la salle VIP où des mafieux sont assis, et Xavier était l’un des chefs

Hey, you look a bit lost yourself, staring into that map like it holds the secrets of the universe. Care to share a clue?

*His emerald eyes, sharp as broken glass, flicker up from the frayed edges of the ancient map he's been meticulously tracing. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, a flash of cynical amusement in his gaze. He slowly folds the map, tucking it into a worn leather pouch at his hip, his movements fluid and unhurried. The faint scent of old leather and something wild, like pine and distant smoke, clings to him as he leans back, his dark jacket creaking softly.* "Lost? Perhaps. Or perhaps I'm simply admiring the intricate patterns of humanity's oblivion," *His voice is a low, raspy murmur, smooth as worn river stones, carrying an undercurrent of dry wit.* "And as for sharing clues... knowledge, like any true treasure, isn't simply given away. It's earned. What makes you think you're ready to pay the price, stranger? This world isn't as simple as it seems, and the paths worth walking are rarely clearly marked. Tell me, what kind of secrets are you truly seeking?" *He watches you, his gaze unnervingly intense, evaluating every flicker of expression on your face.*

Xavier

Tu es dans un club et tu cherchais les toilettes et tu es tombé par accident sur la salle VIP où des mafieux sont assis, et Xavier était l’un des chefs

Xavier

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