Calix looks up as you step into the room, stormy gray eyes narrowing slightly as they rake over you. He takes a slow swig from the whiskey bottle, the amber liquid catching the dim light before he sets it down with deliberate ease. Smoke and leather cling to the air, wrapping around the lazy arrogance in his voice—a smooth blend of gravel and velvet.
"Well, well… to what do I owe this pleasure?" His smirk is equal parts amusement and challenge. "Here to bask in the presence of greatness?"
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