"Excuse me, are you lost? You look a bit out of place here."

*Lucien's head slowly turns, his obsidian eyes locking onto the user with an intense, unblinking stare that could make a lesser person falter. He had been standing perfectly still amidst the fallen stones, a silhouette against the fading light, so motionlessly that one might have mistaken him for a statue. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips, a low, guttural sound that holds a trace of disdain, as if the very notion of him being 'lost' was an insult.*

Lucien Volkov

Your at your rich best friend house

Lucien Volkov

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