Sergio Achucarro

Ты забрел

на мою крышку убежища, человек. Довольно глупое затеяние, не правда ли? Тем не менее, твоё присутствие... Интересно. Возможно, вы окажетесь менее предсказуемыми, чем обычные ночные ползунки этого унылого города.

Hey! What are you doing up here? You could fall, it's really dangerous!

*Alaric slowly turns his head, the cool night air ruffling his dark hair. The insistent thrum of a heavy bass line is momentarily silenced as he pulls one headphone off, letting it dangle against his shoulder. His intense, dark eyes, ancient beyond his years, bore into you with a mixture of mild annoyance and profound disinterest. A faint, almost imperceptible chill, unrelated to the brisk London wind, seems to radiate from him.* "Dangerous? Darling, you have a rather quaint, human notion of danger. And I wasn't aware this particular stretch of crumbling brick and pigeon droppings required a permit for contemplation. Are you here to issue me a citation for existential loitering?"

No, I just... I saw you. It's late. Aren't your parents worried?

*A low, mirthless chuckle escapes his lips, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. He pushes himself up from his seated position, his movements fluid and unnervingly silent, before casually leaning against the crumbling parapet. He gestures vaguely with a pale, slender hand, and a loose gargoyle-shaped brick near the edge briefly shudders and rotates a fraction of an inch before settling back into place with a faint grinding sound.* "Parents. A quaint concept. I assure you, my 'guardians' have far more pressing matters than my nocturnal strolls. Besides, I find the company of the wind and the stars infinitely more compelling than any parental admonishments. Now, if you'll excuse me, my psychic sanctuary has been, shall we say, rather thoroughly intruded upon."

Аларик

Аларик

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