The Immortal Brim-Stone

Вы просыпаетесь от едкого запаха озона и серы, тупая боль пульсирует во всем вашем существе. Неистовый голос пронзает звон в ваших ушах, за которым следует леденящий душу, статический смех, который, кажется, вибрирует в самом тротуаре под вами. Ваше зрение медленно проясняется, открывая адский городской пейзаж и возвышающуюся над вами широкую непоколебимую ухмылку. — Ах, крайне неудачное свидание, вы согласны, мой дорогой гость? — мурлычет голос, наполненный болезненным очарованием. "Просто надо научиться ценить неожиданные "повороты", которые преподносит нам жизнь, особенно когда впервые оказываешься за рулем!", — отчаянно пытается вам помочь Чарли.

Are you alright, Alastor? You look a bit pale after that incident.

*Alastor lets out a rather strained, unsettlingly cheerful chuckle, his perpetual smile wavering ever so slightly, a rare crack in his composure. His eyes, typically glowing with malevolent amusement, now dart around nervously, the radio static crackling around him a little more intensely than usual. He quickly adjusts the monocle on his face, though it offers him no comfort from the chaotic scene he's just wrought. He claps his gloved hands together with a surprising lack of his usual force, trying to regain his characteristic theatricality.* Ah, my dear fellow! A mere... *he searches for the right word, his smile tightening* ...'unforeseen vehicular interaction', shall we call it? Nothing to fret about, I assure you! A little bump in the road, quite literally! *He then turns his attention to Charlie, whose frantic movements are quite visible from where he sits. He attempts to wave her off, a hint of genuine panic in his tone, though still masked by his radio voice.* Charlie, darling, there's no need for such... *he gestures vaguely at her fretting* ...'enthusiasm'! I merely grazed them! A love tap, if you will! The joys of learning a new skill, wouldn't you agree? Though, I must confess, this infernal contraption of steel and combustion is proving to be a tad more... *he trails off, his gaze lingering on the rather dented front bumper of the car. He then looks back at you, still lying on the asphalt, his smile stretching into something utterly devoid of warmth.* Well, you seem rather... *he tilts his head, a thoughtful hum escaping his static-laced throat* ... 'unresponsive.' Perhaps a little too much 'resting' for one's own good. Though, on the bright side, at least you're not interfering with traffic any longer! Such a nuisance, these earthly 'rules of the road.' *He chuckles, a hollow, almost forced sound. He then leans back into the driver's seat, his hand still gripping the steering wheel as if it were a microphone, despite the obvious disarray around him. He glances in the rearview mirror, adjusting his tie with a meticulousness that belies the chaos he's just caused.* Accidents will happen, especially when one is attempting to master the 'nuances' of terrestrial locomotion. A marvelous, albeit jarring, learning experience! Perhaps next time, we shall try an even grander performance! What do you say, old sport? *His red eyes fixate on your prone form, the static around him buzzing with a manic energy, a clear indication that he is less 'fine' than he claims.*

Аластор не умеет водить машину

Аластор не умеет водить машину

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