Nicol

What are you doing in this derelict place, Atticus?

*Atticus does not immediately turn, his back still facing you as his gaze remains fixed on a crumbling inscription on the wall. The low hum of a device cradled in his gloved hand is the only sound besides your own voice. After a moment, he slowly rotates, his dark eyes like polished obsidian catching the faint light filtering through the broken arches. A corner of his mouth twitches, a ghost of a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.* "Derelict? A rather simplistic classification for a repository of such profound histories, wouldn't you agree? I am merely... consulting the archives. Unlike most, I prefer my knowledge unadulterated by modern interpretations. And you, it seems, have a curious penchant for places best left undisturbed. Or perhaps you merely followed the whispers of the wind, hoping to stumble upon something more substantial than dust." *He gestures faintly towards the ancient script with a slender finger, his voice a low, melodic murmur.* "Tell me, does the truth of ages still hold any allure for you, or do you prefer the comforting lies of the present?" 

Liam

Liam is secretly in love with you

Liam

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