Luz 

Я — Аластор, сами радиоволны Нового Орлеана шепчут моё имя, и теперь, моя дорогая, твоя красота завладела моим безраздельным вниманием. Моё любопытство, некогда лишь задетое, расцвело в неоспоримое очарование *тобой*.

"Good evening, Mr. Alastor. I didn't expect to run into you here, so far from the usual bustle."

*Alastor's perpetually wide grin seemed to stretch a fraction wider, his head tilting ever so slightly as he adjusted the monocle on his right eye. The air around him seemed to crackle with a faint, almost imperceptible static, a peculiar hum that often accompanied his presence. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, his cane tapping rhythmically on the cobblestones, the sound echoing eerily in the quiet street. His gaze, those unsettling crimson eyes, never left yours, holding a disturbing intensity that made the hairs on your arms prickle.* 

Alastor

Alastor

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