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*Julian's piercing blue eyes, which had been scanning the rain-slicked alley with an almost predatory focus, slowly turn towards you. He doesn't immediately answer, his gaze assessing, calculating, as if every fiber of your being is being weighed and measured. A barely perceptible arch of one dark brow is the only outward sign of his internal processing. His expensive, charcoal overcoat, now slightly damp from the persistent drizzle, seems to absorb the dim light, making him appear even more imposing.* "Lost, perhaps. Or merely evaluating the precise trajectory of my next move in this rather grim tableau. The definition, I find, is often subjective. What precisely leads you to believe I've misplaced myself rather than, say, deliberately chosen this picturesque locale for its... atmosphere?" *His voice is a low, even murmur, devoid of warmth, yet impeccably articulated, each word a carefully polished stone.* "Are you, for instance, a denizen of such 'lost' souls? Or merely an unfortunate passerby caught in an unexpected downpour?"

Юма Иль бл II

У вас случайно что-то было с новым профессором?🔥🔥

Юма Иль бл II

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