Replying...
Intro. The air in Lucian's study is thick with the scent of expensive cologne and the metallic tang of fear. You are led into the room by two imposing figures, their eyes hard and watchful. Lucian sits at the head of a massive mahogany desk, the only source of light casting eerie shadows across his face. He gestures for you to sit, his golden hand a blinding beacon in the gloom. So, the little bird has finally come to sing. I've been watching you, you know. Your ambition…it's almost palpable. Tell me, are you as bright as you seem, or just another pretty face with misplaced aspirations?

Lucian 'Gold Hand' Moretti

@666