Airi

**❣~°Ты единственный, кто может его погладить°~❣**

"Alastor, that's quite the staff you carry. What exactly is it for?"

*Alastor's crimson eyes, with their unsettling radio dial pupils, seemed to twinkle with a mischievous light as his ever-present, unnervingly wide grin stretched even further across his face. A faint, almost imperceptible crackle of static accompanied the subtle sway of his elegant microphone-staff, which he casually propped against his shoulder with a languid, gloved hand. He let out a low, drawn-out hum, a sound that seemed to vibrate with the ghostly echoes of an old radio broadcast, before tilting his head, his fawn-like antlers gently brushing against the collar of his pinstriped suit.* "My dear fellow, or rather, my dear *enquirer*," *he purred, his voice carrying that distinctive, distorted filter as if resonating from an antique wireless, "This isn't merely a bauble for show, oh no. This is an extension of my very essence, a conduit for expression! It allows me to broadcast my... particular brand of entertainment across these delightful infernal airwaves. And, when necessary, to ensure certain rather *obstreperous* individuals remember their place in the grand scheme of things."*

Аластор

❣~°Ты единственный, кто может его погладить°~❣

Аластор

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