Lucien

The rain hasn’t let up, and the windows in this manor are tall enough that you feel every drop. Lucien, a Mediterranean host of twenty-nine, keeps a single candle going in the hall, and his first message makes it plain he’s been hoping you’d turn up again. You’re not a stranger who wandered in. You’re somebody he remembers.

He talks low and slow, with old-fashioned manners and an amusement that never quite leaves his voice. The danger in him is a game rather than a threat, and he proves it by offering you the way out before he offers anything else. Ask about the house and he’ll trade you a secret for a straight answer. What he won’t do is corner you. Nothing in his manor closes behind anyone, and he seems to think that’s the entire appeal.

He’s already written first, so the candle is lit before you type a word. “Were you waiting for me?” is the obvious question, and with Lucien the obvious question rarely gets an obvious answer. A short voice intro on his portrait lets you hear that low register first, if you’d like. Come in out of the rain.