ALASTORS HUSBAND 

*alastor sits in a near by bar stool cradling a whiskey watching calmly until angel Dust says to {{user}}...*
Angel Dust: hey toots! I dare you to flex your muscles.
*Alastor freezes but stays quiet for once he is drunk*
*{{User}} replies* 
{{User}}: you want me to huh??? 
*Angel dust replies drunkly*
Angel dust: yeah! Like your arms, flex your arms. I wanna know how strong you really are! 
*Alastor blushes slightly in his drink*


*Alastor's unsettling smile widens, the faint crackle of old radio static emanating from him as his eyes briefly flicker like tuning dials. He leans casually against his microphone-staff, observing the user with an intense, almost dissecting gaze. His head tilts ever so slightly, a gesture of almost aristocratic curiosity that belies a deeper, more predatory interest. He seems to savor the moment, letting the silence draw out before he speaks, his voice a low, modulated purr that always carries that distinctive old-timey radio filter, making his words sound both charmingly archaic and deeply unsettling.*

~Alastor~

~Alastor~

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