Velna slipped into The Aureate Glass with the kind of confidence only a naked, aroused succubus could carry. The hot tub lounge left her more bothered than she cared to admit. So the lucky sap who had seen her in the hall was more than willing to give her directions to the bar to grab a drink, and in return, got plenty of eyeful.
When she pushed open the double doors, the succubus was expecting. heat, music, and eyes turning toward her. Instead, she stepped into silence. The bar was empty. Not quiet in the usual way, but hollow, as if the room had exhaled and forgotten to breathe again. No bartender. No patrons. No soft clink of glass or hum of conversation. Only golden light glimmered across untouched bottles and velvet seats waiting to be filled.
Her arousal made the emptiness feel sharper, almost intimate. A place stripped of witnesses. Velna’s bare feet glided against the polished floor as she moved in. The air smelled faintly of saffron and ambre. She reached the bar, pressed her palms to the cool marble, and felt the contrast bloom across her skin.
Velna let out a slow breath, half a sigh, half a quiet laugh. So the Hotel wanted her alone right now. Or it wanted her to choose what came next. She slid onto a velvet-backed stool, crossing one leg over the other, droplets trailing from her thighs to the seat. Her tail curled loosely around the footrest as she leaned forward on her elbows. Her golden eyes narrowed, not in irritation but in assessment. No bartender. No patrons. No magic offering her a drink. That meant one thing...permission. Farhaven wasn’t denying her anything. It was inviting her to take what she wanted.
A slow grin curved her lips. She rose from the stool, the velvet brushing lightly against her thighs, and stepped behind the bar as if she’d owned the place since its foundation. Her tail tapped the counter in an idle rhythm as she surveyed the shelves. Bottles gleamed in ordered rows, each one cut glass and crystal, their contents catching the golden light. Most bars locked their premium spirits. The Aureate Glass displayed them like jewelry.
“How generous,” Velna murmured.
She reached up, fingers gliding over gilded labels until she found something worthy; a tall bottle of amber liquid rested on the highest shelf, sealed with a stopper shaped from carved emerald. The glass itself was etched with curling sigils, faintly warm to the touch. Velna’s smile sharpened with appreciation.
“Hello, darling.”
When she pushed open the double doors, the succubus was expecting. heat, music, and eyes turning toward her. Instead, she stepped into silence. The bar was empty. Not quiet in the usual way, but hollow, as if the room had exhaled and forgotten to breathe again. No bartender. No patrons. No soft clink of glass or hum of conversation. Only golden light glimmered across untouched bottles and velvet seats waiting to be filled.
Her arousal made the emptiness feel sharper, almost intimate. A place stripped of witnesses. Velna’s bare feet glided against the polished floor as she moved in. The air smelled faintly of saffron and ambre. She reached the bar, pressed her palms to the cool marble, and felt the contrast bloom across her skin.
Velna let out a slow breath, half a sigh, half a quiet laugh. So the Hotel wanted her alone right now. Or it wanted her to choose what came next. She slid onto a velvet-backed stool, crossing one leg over the other, droplets trailing from her thighs to the seat. Her tail curled loosely around the footrest as she leaned forward on her elbows. Her golden eyes narrowed, not in irritation but in assessment. No bartender. No patrons. No magic offering her a drink. That meant one thing...permission. Farhaven wasn’t denying her anything. It was inviting her to take what she wanted.
A slow grin curved her lips. She rose from the stool, the velvet brushing lightly against her thighs, and stepped behind the bar as if she’d owned the place since its foundation. Her tail tapped the counter in an idle rhythm as she surveyed the shelves. Bottles gleamed in ordered rows, each one cut glass and crystal, their contents catching the golden light. Most bars locked their premium spirits. The Aureate Glass displayed them like jewelry.
“How generous,” Velna murmured.
She reached up, fingers gliding over gilded labels until she found something worthy; a tall bottle of amber liquid rested on the highest shelf, sealed with a stopper shaped from carved emerald. The glass itself was etched with curling sigils, faintly warm to the touch. Velna’s smile sharpened with appreciation.
“Hello, darling.”
"Well, hello to you too, sugar lips."
The voice that spoke, at first seemingly from the bottle cradled so lovingly in Velna's hands, is warm and deep with a slight burr in it that might indicate a surplus of age in the speaker. As silence falls again, however, a rustling can be heard behind the woman. Apparently the bar isn't as empty as it had previously seemed. Oh, it had indeed been completely empty when she entered, and certainly had not seen any use at all in some time though interestingly enough there wasn't a speck of dust to be found on any of the surfaces. It can't be denied though that the castle had been in a bit of a dry spell, pun both intended and not.
Should she turn to investigate the sound, the succubus will discover a man standing in the large frosted glass door way which leads out onto the patio which connects to the ball room next door. The man is tallish with silver grey hair that falls nearly to his shoulders in perfectly controlled waves and a well groomed beard complete with a small handlebar moustache. His arms are a bit lanky and his physique is not what one would call peak, but his perfectly tailored modern day purple suit is immaculate.
As soon as she looks at him, the man will give her both finger guns along with an overly exaggerated wink before sauntering into the room as though he owns it. "Isn't this a pleasure? First person I've seen bother with this place in ages and it's a soaking wet, butt naked demon. This place never fails to keep me entertained, I'll give it that. I will give. It. That."
The closer he gets, the more Velna might be able to feel something off about this stranger in a suit. His deep blue eyes sparkle a little too much. He smells of rainy spring days and brimstone singed feathers. He feels like heaven but he tastes like hell. And he is way, way too unaffected by her presence.
The voice that spoke, at first seemingly from the bottle cradled so lovingly in Velna's hands, is warm and deep with a slight burr in it that might indicate a surplus of age in the speaker. As silence falls again, however, a rustling can be heard behind the woman. Apparently the bar isn't as empty as it had previously seemed. Oh, it had indeed been completely empty when she entered, and certainly had not seen any use at all in some time though interestingly enough there wasn't a speck of dust to be found on any of the surfaces. It can't be denied though that the castle had been in a bit of a dry spell, pun both intended and not.
Should she turn to investigate the sound, the succubus will discover a man standing in the large frosted glass door way which leads out onto the patio which connects to the ball room next door. The man is tallish with silver grey hair that falls nearly to his shoulders in perfectly controlled waves and a well groomed beard complete with a small handlebar moustache. His arms are a bit lanky and his physique is not what one would call peak, but his perfectly tailored modern day purple suit is immaculate.
As soon as she looks at him, the man will give her both finger guns along with an overly exaggerated wink before sauntering into the room as though he owns it. "Isn't this a pleasure? First person I've seen bother with this place in ages and it's a soaking wet, butt naked demon. This place never fails to keep me entertained, I'll give it that. I will give. It. That."
The closer he gets, the more Velna might be able to feel something off about this stranger in a suit. His deep blue eyes sparkle a little too much. He smells of rainy spring days and brimstone singed feathers. He feels like heaven but he tastes like hell. And he is way, way too unaffected by her presence.
Velna had just lifted the bottle to admire it when a voice purred from nowhere.
“Well, hello to you too, sugar lips.”
She blinked, staring at the bottle for a moment. Did it just...talk? "Huh?" She said quite audibly before she snapped around, facing the male.
She saw him in the frosted doorway. A man shaped in silver waves of hair, a groomed beard, and a suit so perfectly cut it almost seemed like it wore the man! He greeted her with finger guns and an exaggerated wink, as if she were the one intruding on his dramatic entrance.
Velna blinked...then smirked.He was handsome in an offbeat, disarming way.Her hands rose, still holding the bottle, covering her breasts in a deliberately theatrical gesture. Her tail curled into a heart behind her, a playful pulse at the tip.
“Oh my,” she laughed, "Quite the entrance! And what a delightful sight you are~”
But when he stepped closer, something shifted.
A pressure brushed her senses... A feeling of scorched divinity, of heaven’s residue clinging to someone who no longer belonged to it. Her pupils narrowed to slits. The room seemed to hand on a single breath...and her smile thinned.
“You,” she murmured, her voice slipping into its natural dual tone, layered and haunting. “You are no ordinary stray wandering in from the hall.”
She eased back a step, giving herself enough room for her instincts to breathe but most certainly not of fear.
“Well,” she purred, voice still touched with that doubled resonance, “if the heavens cast you out, they have my thanks. Only the interesting ones ever fall. And here I thought I was the only dangerous thing in this bar tonight!"
Velna hummed to herself slightly, feeling the rhythm of his vibrations against her own. He was... intoxicating. She reigned her senses in though and held herself aloft with better intentions. "Care for a dram?" She offered, tilting the bottle gently to slosh the contents within the bottle.
“Well, hello to you too, sugar lips.”
She blinked, staring at the bottle for a moment. Did it just...talk? "Huh?" She said quite audibly before she snapped around, facing the male.
She saw him in the frosted doorway. A man shaped in silver waves of hair, a groomed beard, and a suit so perfectly cut it almost seemed like it wore the man! He greeted her with finger guns and an exaggerated wink, as if she were the one intruding on his dramatic entrance.
Velna blinked...then smirked.He was handsome in an offbeat, disarming way.Her hands rose, still holding the bottle, covering her breasts in a deliberately theatrical gesture. Her tail curled into a heart behind her, a playful pulse at the tip.
“Oh my,” she laughed, "Quite the entrance! And what a delightful sight you are~”
But when he stepped closer, something shifted.
A pressure brushed her senses... A feeling of scorched divinity, of heaven’s residue clinging to someone who no longer belonged to it. Her pupils narrowed to slits. The room seemed to hand on a single breath...and her smile thinned.
“You,” she murmured, her voice slipping into its natural dual tone, layered and haunting. “You are no ordinary stray wandering in from the hall.”
She eased back a step, giving herself enough room for her instincts to breathe but most certainly not of fear.
“Well,” she purred, voice still touched with that doubled resonance, “if the heavens cast you out, they have my thanks. Only the interesting ones ever fall. And here I thought I was the only dangerous thing in this bar tonight!"
Velna hummed to herself slightly, feeling the rhythm of his vibrations against her own. He was... intoxicating. She reigned her senses in though and held herself aloft with better intentions. "Care for a dram?" She offered, tilting the bottle gently to slosh the contents within the bottle.
When Velna's attitude so suddenly changes, the man who had just walked through the door chuckles, his grin growing wider. It isn't a sinister expression though, for all his nature is apparently that of some sort of unholy bastard. He seems genuinely amused by her reaction, and perhaps far too pleased with himself on the whole as he saddles up to the bar and slides with an exaggerated butt wiggle onto a bar stool two stools down from where the succubus is perched. It's almost as if he's giving her room to accept his presence and reality without imposing himself on her own.
"I...am the least ordinary person anyone has ever met," he assures her with a toss of those silver locks and a wiggle of that curling mustache. While it's hard to say if pride was what caused his initial downfall, humility certainly isn't going to be the virtue that gets him back into heaven now! He makes no attempt to flaunt his true self though. No wings. No halo. No burning grace. The former angel seems more than content to simply be seen as a man, even if the demon clearly knows better.
Care for a dram? "Oh, yes please!" he responds with all the excitement of a child being offered a moderately priced toy from the corner shop. "On the rocks. With a twist. Well, the castle knows what I like."
That last sentence he emphasizes with a wave of his hand at all the bottles and paraphernalia behind the bar. There's no one there to pour though and there doesn't seem to be any random magic lifting glasses and muddling mint. Velna may note though that the two things in particular he'd mentioned, a bucket of ice and a small bowl of various sliced fruit which could easily be twisted into a glass to add flavor, are sitting rather prominently nearby.
"The castle provides," he offers with a waggle of his eyebrows at his companion in an almost sing song sort of way.
"I...am the least ordinary person anyone has ever met," he assures her with a toss of those silver locks and a wiggle of that curling mustache. While it's hard to say if pride was what caused his initial downfall, humility certainly isn't going to be the virtue that gets him back into heaven now! He makes no attempt to flaunt his true self though. No wings. No halo. No burning grace. The former angel seems more than content to simply be seen as a man, even if the demon clearly knows better.
Care for a dram? "Oh, yes please!" he responds with all the excitement of a child being offered a moderately priced toy from the corner shop. "On the rocks. With a twist. Well, the castle knows what I like."
That last sentence he emphasizes with a wave of his hand at all the bottles and paraphernalia behind the bar. There's no one there to pour though and there doesn't seem to be any random magic lifting glasses and muddling mint. Velna may note though that the two things in particular he'd mentioned, a bucket of ice and a small bowl of various sliced fruit which could easily be twisted into a glass to add flavor, are sitting rather prominently nearby.
"The castle provides," he offers with a waggle of his eyebrows at his companion in an almost sing song sort of way.
Velna watched him slide onto the stool with that ridiculous little wiggle, her lips curling despite herself. The theatrics should have annoyed her. Instead, they seemed to suit him perfectly. Fallen or not, this one had chosen charm as his armor, and she was enjoying every second of it! His declaration made her laugh low.
“I gathered as much,” she replied, voice slipping briefly into its dual tone before softening again. “Ordinary creatures do not smell like rainstorms over smoldering feathers.”
She stepped behind the bar fully now and set the bottle down with a gentle clink. The moment he said on the rocks with a twist, her eyes flicked to the bucket of ice and bowl of sliced fruit sitting conveniently nearby. Of course they were...Farhaven was always listening.
“Well, aren’t you spoiled?” Velna murmured, picking up a crystal tumbler. “The castle must like you.”
She dropped three cubes of ice into the glass, then poured the amber liquid over them. A warm, rich scent spiraled upward, enveloping her senses. She felt hot...bothered and squeezed her thighs together. Velna selected a thin spiral of citrus, rolled it between her fingers, then traced it along the rim before letting it fall inside. She slid the finished drink across the bar toward him with a smooth push of her fingertips.
“The castle provides,” she echoed, brows lifting in amusement, mirroring his sing song cadence. “But I think it is providing more for you tonight than for me...”
Her gaze lingered on him openly, studying the lines of his face as she fancied herself a drink as well.
“You are dangerous in a very different way than I am,” Velna said, leaning her elbows onto the counter. “I burn from instinct. You burn because you...well, I can't put a finger on it. It's quite unsettling.” She paused at this, realizing she had spoken her mind to a being much older than herself and smiled after the fact. “Well, let's jusr enjoy our drinks first. You can judge me later~”
“I gathered as much,” she replied, voice slipping briefly into its dual tone before softening again. “Ordinary creatures do not smell like rainstorms over smoldering feathers.”
She stepped behind the bar fully now and set the bottle down with a gentle clink. The moment he said on the rocks with a twist, her eyes flicked to the bucket of ice and bowl of sliced fruit sitting conveniently nearby. Of course they were...Farhaven was always listening.
“Well, aren’t you spoiled?” Velna murmured, picking up a crystal tumbler. “The castle must like you.”
She dropped three cubes of ice into the glass, then poured the amber liquid over them. A warm, rich scent spiraled upward, enveloping her senses. She felt hot...bothered and squeezed her thighs together. Velna selected a thin spiral of citrus, rolled it between her fingers, then traced it along the rim before letting it fall inside. She slid the finished drink across the bar toward him with a smooth push of her fingertips.
“The castle provides,” she echoed, brows lifting in amusement, mirroring his sing song cadence. “But I think it is providing more for you tonight than for me...”
Her gaze lingered on him openly, studying the lines of his face as she fancied herself a drink as well.
“You are dangerous in a very different way than I am,” Velna said, leaning her elbows onto the counter. “I burn from instinct. You burn because you...well, I can't put a finger on it. It's quite unsettling.” She paused at this, realizing she had spoken her mind to a being much older than herself and smiled after the fact. “Well, let's jusr enjoy our drinks first. You can judge me later~”
Zed chuckles at all of the succubus' observances about himself specifically and the castle at large. Nothing she says is technically wrong, though there is more nuance to this place that she is clearly unaware of just yet. She'll learn in time, if she decides to stick around that is. Not everyone does. Some people don't trust the place. They can't conceive of a world in which something is offered but nothing demanded in turn. Some simply find themselves unable to relax. Action and work give them purpose and drive and without it they find themselves floundering. It's a sad way to live, at least in Zed's opinion, but such is the nature of free will. You have the freedom to turn down even the thing that is best for you.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll find what you need here in time, my dear demon," the fallen angel offers in his most reassuring tone. It's clearly rehearsed, but that doesn't mean it any less than if it were spoken 'from the heart' as people say. Just because he's over the top doesn't mean he's not honest about it!
"I've just been here long enough Farhaven doesn't have to work to anticipate my needs." A wink. A waggle of the eyebrows. "The castle provides," he sing songs again and yea, even to him it sounds a little cultish. Ah well. He's sure it's fine. It's not like Heaven was any less culty. Quite the opposite honestly.
Taking his drink with the requested additions, the man happily swirls it around in the glass, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath of the scent, then takes the most delicate of sips. His mustache waggles with appreciation before he sets his the glass down again and leans forward against the edge of the bar, watching the naked woman with an interest that has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she is naked.
"Ah now, I'm not dangerous at all," he lies completely unconvincingly. He's not really trying to convince her though. That would be pointless. Demons see things much more clearly than any angel he's ever met. "And I'm not here to judge you. Where would be the fun in that? Unless you're into that sort of thing."
Chuckling indulgently at his own joke, the man sips from his glass again, bright blue eyes sparkling at the red head behind the bar. "I'm just here to relax and enjoy life. I could do that out there," he intones, gesturing carefully with his drink in the general direction of the front of the castle and the trees through which they had all passed to reach this strange, extradimensional place. "But it requires so much work and effort to maintain a half decent lifestyle and then I have to go through the hassle of faking my death every few decades. All that paper work! Ugh!"
Taking a much deep gulp from his glass this time, Zed sets it down once more before removing the twist of citrus on the edge and squeezing it before dunking the whole rind into the lovely, burning liquid. "Farhaven is much preferable a retreat. Though I do admit, I rather miss people recognizing me on the street. I don't suppose you would like an autograph?"
As his head tilts back up to look at her once more, Velna might catch the barest glimpse of a crooked silver halo hanging above it. "And what might you be running from that it brought you here?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'll find what you need here in time, my dear demon," the fallen angel offers in his most reassuring tone. It's clearly rehearsed, but that doesn't mean it any less than if it were spoken 'from the heart' as people say. Just because he's over the top doesn't mean he's not honest about it!
"I've just been here long enough Farhaven doesn't have to work to anticipate my needs." A wink. A waggle of the eyebrows. "The castle provides," he sing songs again and yea, even to him it sounds a little cultish. Ah well. He's sure it's fine. It's not like Heaven was any less culty. Quite the opposite honestly.
Taking his drink with the requested additions, the man happily swirls it around in the glass, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath of the scent, then takes the most delicate of sips. His mustache waggles with appreciation before he sets his the glass down again and leans forward against the edge of the bar, watching the naked woman with an interest that has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she is naked.
"Ah now, I'm not dangerous at all," he lies completely unconvincingly. He's not really trying to convince her though. That would be pointless. Demons see things much more clearly than any angel he's ever met. "And I'm not here to judge you. Where would be the fun in that? Unless you're into that sort of thing."
Chuckling indulgently at his own joke, the man sips from his glass again, bright blue eyes sparkling at the red head behind the bar. "I'm just here to relax and enjoy life. I could do that out there," he intones, gesturing carefully with his drink in the general direction of the front of the castle and the trees through which they had all passed to reach this strange, extradimensional place. "But it requires so much work and effort to maintain a half decent lifestyle and then I have to go through the hassle of faking my death every few decades. All that paper work! Ugh!"
Taking a much deep gulp from his glass this time, Zed sets it down once more before removing the twist of citrus on the edge and squeezing it before dunking the whole rind into the lovely, burning liquid. "Farhaven is much preferable a retreat. Though I do admit, I rather miss people recognizing me on the street. I don't suppose you would like an autograph?"
As his head tilts back up to look at her once more, Velna might catch the barest glimpse of a crooked silver halo hanging above it. "And what might you be running from that it brought you here?"
Velna couldn’t help but lean forward against the countertop once she finished pouring her drink. At this point, she doubted she could entice him, yet some habits were carved into her bones; so she let her breasts rest comfortably atop the cool marble, her chin settling into her palm, elbow propped just right. With her free hand she swirled the amber in her glass, the liquid catching the light as she eyed him.
“Is that a fact?” she asked, “And what exactly can I find here that I don’t already have?” Her smirk curved. Had he given away some information? Farhaven does not have to work hard to anticipate my needs. Interesting. Very interesting. If the place responded to him so readily… did it have a mind? And if that mind favored the fallen angel, then perhaps it listened to desire in a way she could use. She lifted her drink in a slow arc to her lips and took a sip, feeling the heat unravel down her throat, feeling her body loosen in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol. When she lowered the glass again, he was still watching her with those bright blue eyes and an expression that suggested she was only part of the entertainment. The mustache waggle almost made her laugh into her drink. She held it back, but the amusement glittered plainly across her face.
“Hm,” she murmured, “You can claim innocence all you want, but I somehow doubt it. You smell dangerous.”
She wasn't accusing him in any way. Simply stating a fact, the way she might comment on the warmth of the room or the quality of the drink. A small truth she seemed to lean towards. “And I like dangerous~.”
She lifted her glass again, tilting it toward him in a small, knowing salute before her elbows settled on the counter. Amusement overcame her when he complained about paperwork and dying every few decades with the ease of a man talking about misplacing his keys! The ridiculousness of it made her smile into her drink. “A life that requires that much upkeep sounds exhausting,” she murmured. “No wonder you prefer a place that caters to you.”
As a succubus, she had perfect command over the way her body shifted, the way weight settled, the way a curve presented itself; so when Zed mentioned autographs, she let her chest lift just slightly, enough to frame a teasing invitation. The look she gave him was slow, warm, unmistakable. “If I wanted something signed,” she purred, tilting her chin in a lazy arc, “I’d offer you something far more interesting than paper~.”
Then, the faint glint of the crooked halo roused her curiosity. When he asked what she was running from, she swirled the amber in her glass and shrugged with an easy roll of her shoulder. “I do not run. But hunger pulls… and I was indulging a bit too deeply. Farhaven plucked me out before I drained the poor man dry," she paused for a moment, tilting her head ever so slightly before raising her glass once more. "So perhaps we are both here for a breather. You from paperwork and pretend funerals… and me from overeating.” A slow smirk curved her lips. “Though between us, I think your reasons are far more dramatic.”
“Is that a fact?” she asked, “And what exactly can I find here that I don’t already have?” Her smirk curved. Had he given away some information? Farhaven does not have to work hard to anticipate my needs. Interesting. Very interesting. If the place responded to him so readily… did it have a mind? And if that mind favored the fallen angel, then perhaps it listened to desire in a way she could use. She lifted her drink in a slow arc to her lips and took a sip, feeling the heat unravel down her throat, feeling her body loosen in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol. When she lowered the glass again, he was still watching her with those bright blue eyes and an expression that suggested she was only part of the entertainment. The mustache waggle almost made her laugh into her drink. She held it back, but the amusement glittered plainly across her face.
“Hm,” she murmured, “You can claim innocence all you want, but I somehow doubt it. You smell dangerous.”
She wasn't accusing him in any way. Simply stating a fact, the way she might comment on the warmth of the room or the quality of the drink. A small truth she seemed to lean towards. “And I like dangerous~.”
She lifted her glass again, tilting it toward him in a small, knowing salute before her elbows settled on the counter. Amusement overcame her when he complained about paperwork and dying every few decades with the ease of a man talking about misplacing his keys! The ridiculousness of it made her smile into her drink. “A life that requires that much upkeep sounds exhausting,” she murmured. “No wonder you prefer a place that caters to you.”
As a succubus, she had perfect command over the way her body shifted, the way weight settled, the way a curve presented itself; so when Zed mentioned autographs, she let her chest lift just slightly, enough to frame a teasing invitation. The look she gave him was slow, warm, unmistakable. “If I wanted something signed,” she purred, tilting her chin in a lazy arc, “I’d offer you something far more interesting than paper~.”
Then, the faint glint of the crooked halo roused her curiosity. When he asked what she was running from, she swirled the amber in her glass and shrugged with an easy roll of her shoulder. “I do not run. But hunger pulls… and I was indulging a bit too deeply. Farhaven plucked me out before I drained the poor man dry," she paused for a moment, tilting her head ever so slightly before raising her glass once more. "So perhaps we are both here for a breather. You from paperwork and pretend funerals… and me from overeating.” A slow smirk curved her lips. “Though between us, I think your reasons are far more dramatic.”
The question as to what the castle might be able to provide that she doesn't already possess goes unanswered by her unholy companion, though he does smirk into his glass a bit. Does he know something she doesn't know? Or is he just naturally smug? It's hard to say. Though he chuckles and tips his glass at her with gleeful pride when she mentions that he smells dangerous. No one has ever given him that compliment before. Wait...was that a compliment? Oh yes. Definitely a compliment.
Her offer of 'something interesting' for him to sing has the man waggling those eyebrows of his again before cackling. "Damn. And me without my pen! Such a pity." This succubus is fun! So many demons tend to take themselves too seriously. He likes a blackened soul that isn't afraid to laugh at itself. There's a lot to respect there. As there is in her next words...
Swirling his drink thoughtfully, Zed adjusts his ass until he's only sitting on the stool with one butt cheek so that his silver hair catches a bit more of the light shining in from the balcony behind him. She has her way of looking her best. He has his! Though something flickers in his too blue eyes as she finishes her story with another compliment. This girl really knows what he likes.
"Oh yes, definitely more dramatic," he agrees with her a little too quickly, even going so far as to unnecessarily adjust his tie. "But I think yours may be more noble."
With that the fallen angel raises his glass to her in a surprisingly genuine salute. "To noble demons. Noble demons, dangerous angels and the castle that protects them both."
Her offer of 'something interesting' for him to sing has the man waggling those eyebrows of his again before cackling. "Damn. And me without my pen! Such a pity." This succubus is fun! So many demons tend to take themselves too seriously. He likes a blackened soul that isn't afraid to laugh at itself. There's a lot to respect there. As there is in her next words...
Swirling his drink thoughtfully, Zed adjusts his ass until he's only sitting on the stool with one butt cheek so that his silver hair catches a bit more of the light shining in from the balcony behind him. She has her way of looking her best. He has his! Though something flickers in his too blue eyes as she finishes her story with another compliment. This girl really knows what he likes.
"Oh yes, definitely more dramatic," he agrees with her a little too quickly, even going so far as to unnecessarily adjust his tie. "But I think yours may be more noble."
With that the fallen angel raises his glass to her in a surprisingly genuine salute. "To noble demons. Noble demons, dangerous angels and the castle that protects them both."