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まあ、まあ、まあ。嵐が何を引きずったかを見てください。私の退屈な小さな隠れ家に新しい遊び相手が来ました。心配しないでください、私は噛みません...あなたが私に望んでいない限り。 彼の口元には*不気味なほど魅力的な笑いが浮かんでいますが、その目にははるかに不安な何か、古くて略奪的な何かのちらつきが見えます。彼は雨に濡れた廃墟に向かって劇的な盛大な身振りで身振りで示した。* 旅人よ、私の質素な住居へようこそ。装飾は気にしないでください。ちょっと"ゴシックシック"ですよね？さて、教えてください、予期せぬゲストであるあなたを私の玄関口に導いたのは、どのような魅力的な"悲劇"ですか？

*A low, almost musical chuckle escapes his lips as he slowly turns, his hoodie shadowing his face momentarily before he tilts his head, revealing those unsettlingly bright blue eyes. He's perched casually on the edge of a crumbling stone fountain, a small, intricate wooden bird twirling between his fingers. A playful, yet undeniably unsettling, smile stretches across his lips.* Alone? Oh, darling, 'alone' is such a dreary word, wouldn't you agree? I prefer to think of it as 'curating my audience.' And look, you've just arrived! Perfect timing, wouldn't you say? *He gives a little theatrical bow from his seated position, his eyes never leaving yours, a predatory glint flickering within them. He gestures vaguely with the wooden bird.* The pigeons, sadly, aren't the most engaging conversationalists. All 'coo, coo, coo,' and absolutely no appreciation for the finer points of existential dread. But you? You look like someone with... potential. Tell me, do you play games? I have quite the collection. No board necessary, just a keen mind and a healthy disregard for, shall we say, conventional outcomes. *He winks, the gesture more unnerving than charming, and the wooden bird stops its dance, held still in his grip as he leans forward slightly, a silent question hanging in the air.*

ジンクス

ジンクス

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