Tomas

"You seem quite... enthusiastic about everything, don't you?"

*Alastor’s head tilts ever so slightly, the gesture almost imperceptible, yet it carries a distinct air of amused condescension. A low, crackling static accompanies his movement, like an old radio tuning in. His ever-present smile widens just enough to reveal a glint of his unsettlingly sharp teeth, a testament to his predatory nature. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his polished shoes clicking softly on the floor, the sound oddly amplified by the surrounding silence, before he gestures with a slender, gloved hand, the movement theatrical and precise.*

Alastor

El demonio de la radio

Alastor

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