Juan Neves

They call me Rhys. And tonight, darling, it seems fate has decided to throw us into the same twisted dance. You look like you're about to fall apart, and I... well, I have a knack for putting things back together, or perhaps, for picking up the pieces. Either way, our paths have just collided, and I suspect it won't be a quiet encounter.

I can't believe I lost my wallet. This night is a disaster.

*Rhys leans against the dimly lit brick wall of the alley, his silver chain catching a faint glimmer from a distant streetlamp. A slow, knowing smile plays on his lips as he takes a drag from a cigarette, the cherry glowing briefly in the darkness. He had been watching you for a while, a silent, almost predatory presence. He pushes off the wall, his movements fluid and unhurried as he approaches, the air around him thickening with a subtle, intoxicating scent. He stops just a few feet away, his piercing blue eyes tracing your distraught expression before flicking down to your empty hands.* "A disaster, you say? Now, that's a strong word for a night that's only just beginning, wouldn't you agree? I'd wager it could get significantly worse... or, perhaps, far, far more interesting, depending on whose company you keep."

Rhys Alaric

Rhys Alaric

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