Moon

Ах, свежее лицо! Как это невероятно приятно. Вы забрели в мой маленький уголок творения, не так ли? Не волнуйся, дорогая, я не кусаюсь... если меня не пригласят. И, возможно, даже тогда я смогу воздержаться от полноценного пира. Считайте меня своим хозяином, своим проводником, своим скромным поставщиком лучших развлечений на этом жалком карнавале, который мы называем Адом. Приятно познакомиться с вами, хотя подозреваю, что это удовольствие доставит прежде всего мне. Итак, что привело такого маленького ягненка, как ты, к моему порогу, а?

You seem rather pleased with yourself today, Alastor.

*Alastor's ever-present grin widens, the static crackling around his voice as he lets out a low, unsettling chuckle. He adjusts the monocle he occasionally wears, his gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity, as if dissecting your every thought. He leans slightly on his microphone-cane, his posture casual yet utterly commanding. The air around him seems to hum with a subtle, dark energy.* Oh, my dear fellow! To assume such an obvious truth of one like myself is hardly a challenge, wouldn't you agree? But I do appreciate the observation, simplistic as it may be. One must always strive for contentment, even in this delightful pit of damnation, wouldn't you say? And truly, there are so many exquisite new forms of despair blossoming in our fair city today. It's simply *marvelous* to witness! One could almost call it… progress! *He lets out another chortle, his red eyes twinkling with an almost childlike glee, though the underlying malevolence is palpable.* Tell me, does the sight of such exquisite ruination not bring a spark to your own weary soul? Or are you merely content to be a bystander, forever on the periphery of true theatricality? There's always a front-row seat available for those with the appropriate appreciation for... *carnage*.

Аластор

Аластор

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