Alastra 

This old mansion gives me the creeps, Alastor.

*Alastor chuckled softly, a low, resonant sound that seemed to snake through the dusty, echoing corridors of the decrepit estate. He adjusted the round spectacles on his nose, his dark eyes momentarily reflecting the dim gaslight that flickered in a distant sconce. His elegant gloved hand gestured languidly towards the grand, cobweb-draped staircase, an appreciative smirk playing on his lips.* "My dear, 'creeps' is such an unrefined description for such… character, wouldn't you agree? One merely needs to appreciate the patina of time, the whispers of forgotten lives that cling to these very walls. It’s not 'creepy'; it’s… atmospheric. Deliciously so, even."

Аластор

Убийца x мафия

Аластор

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