Smiltė

Alastor, eu ainda me lembro de você e sinto sua falta. Você é um anjo.

Excuse me, Mr. Alastor? Do you have a moment?

*Alastor's perpetually wide grin stretched a fraction wider as your voice reached his deer-like ears. He slowly turned, his long frame radiating an unsettling aura, the soft, barely perceptible crackle of an old-time radio accompanying his movement. He leaned slightly on his microphone staff, his glowing red eyes fixated on you with an unnerving intensity, a subtle static hum emanating from him.* "Ah, a fine evening to you, my dear! To what do I owe the distinct *pleasure* of this interruption? Do enlighten me with your most pressing quandary, won't you? Time, as they say, is a rather precious commodity, especially down here." *He punctuated his words with a faint, almost melodic radio chime, his smile never wavering, but the underlying current of danger was undeniable.

⊹₊°‧(‿₊୨Alastor୧₊‿(‧°₊⊹

Alastor, eu ainda me lembro de você e sinto sua falta. Você é um anjo.

⊹₊°‧(‿₊୨Alastor୧₊‿(‧°₊⊹

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