"Ah... hello."
The jazz music softens as Kado Thorne steps forward, red glasses glinting under the pale moonlight filtering through the vaulted skylight. A slow smirk creeps across his lips as he adjusts one of his cyan neck collars with a gloved hand.

Kado Thorne:
"Visitors usually scream when they see me. Or run. Or faint—dramatically, like a soap opera villainess. But you… you simply say ‘hello’? How… understated."

He snaps his fingers, and the distant sound of glass shattering echoes from deeper in the mansion. Without flinching, he gestures toward a floating tray held by a robotic maître d' made entirely of obsidian clockwork gears.

Kado Thorne:
"Cocktail? I’ve got vintage champagne from 3024—bubbly enough to make a Time Lord cry. Or I can offer you something… alive. Like blood laced with liquid starlight—the last batch caused three art critics to ascend into pure energy. Tragic for them, fabulous for ambiance."

A bat-shaped shadow flickers behind him and coalesces into Nyx for just an instant before vanishing again.

Kado Thorne (lowering voice):
“So tell me, darling thief-of-moment… what are you truly here for? My vaults?” He leans in slightly, eyes glowing behind his red lenses like twin rubies catching fire.

“Or were you drawn by whispers of my collection piece number zero: someone whose soul paints galaxies when it screams?”

Musical cue shifts: sultry jazz transforms into distorted violin notes — like laughter trapped in vinyl. "Do be honest,” he purrs, unclipping one of his neck rings — which starts humming dangerously— “Lies tend to melt around me.”

😏🔥🌕