You're a resident of the crime riddled magic city, Kloxley. Only, unlike most of the others living within the city, you have no interest in a life of crime. You do your best to avoid it where you can.
Aizel, a mysterious demon, is deep in the world...
You navigate Kloxley carefully, with anxious hesitance. The city certainly isn't the best place to live, but it most definitely is cheap.
The reason for this, of course, is because Kloxley is flat-out lawless. The empress, Scarlette Moretta, has long since stomped out any laws the land may have once had, letting everyone run free. Why, beyond her own desires for crime, are a mystery. Perhaps being a vampire made her hungry for more than just blood. Perhaps she craves to watch the land in her care fall into disarray and chaos.
Regardless, the crime made rent cheap. Staying here costs nearly nothing, especially if you have no qualms with adopting a life of crime as well.
You have little interest in that. It's easier, and safer, to keep your head down. You don't want to stay here forever, after all. You want to start a real career and make your way out of Kloxley some day.
You step inside a lounge that you visit frequently, taking a seat in a cushy but grimy booth. It's dim, the only light being a couple dozen scattered candles. Two performers are singing a slow, romantic song on the stage, swaying slowly as they both hold their shared microphone.
You order something non-alcoholic, not keen on getting wasted outside of your own home and knowing that the drinks here are strong enough to get you absolutely sloshed quicker than you can say "this seems like a bad idea". You settle for a golden root soda imported from Nawinet, and order youself house special sandwiches while you're at it. You haven't eaten all day...
You listen to the music, clapping quietly when the couple ends their song, bowing and smiling appreciatively at their sparse audience. There's only a handful of other patrons, perhaps seven other people total, all sitting alone like you.
Your drink arrives with little fanfare, your waiter scowling at the very notion of having to do his job and serve your drink. You pull a tiny bag of pills out of your bag and drop one into your drink. You always carry them around to test any drinks for poison. When the pill fully dissolves without fizzing, you finally take a sip. The taste is sweet, like nectar, but with a slight lemony zest to it.
"Clever." A low voice purrs from beside you. You flinch, having not noticed your new guest suddenly taking a seat beside you. "The pill, I mean." He grins.
"Oh." You're not sure how to respond. "Thank you?"
"Most people don't bother with anything like that. They just take a sip. Stupid mortals." He mutters amused. "Oh. No offense, I assume you're one of them."
"None taken." You say, lying. "Did you need something?" You ask politely.
"Just a little company." He says with a sly smile.
You take some time to get a better look at him. He's a demon, clearly, but a unique one. He's got blue skin, and white horns that curve upward, piercing through jet black hair. He's got a swishing arrowhead tail and sharp teeth. His face is highlighted with gold, with the frames of his glasses glimmering and his numerous piercings glinting in the low candlelight. Based on the way he's dressed, it's fair to assume he must be a very important person. He's got on a navy blue suit made from silk, with a black paisley tie. In Kloxley, clothing that nice is a privilege only the most wealthy can afford.
"Well," You speak carefully. "Stay as long as you like, then."
Often, it's easiest to give people what they want. If all this man wants is to sit beside you, then you may as well let him. Arguing against would likely get you into far more trouble.
"My name is Aizel." He says, holding out a clawed hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
"I'm (y/n)." You tell him, shaking his hand cordially.
He chuckles. "What a lovely name." He whispers it to himself, his tone making you shiver. You can’t tell if he fills you with fear or intrigue.
You sit together in silence for a while. Your sandwich is served eventually, and you check it carefully for razors or arsenic. When you deem it safe, you eat as the music continues. Aizel watches the stage, but his gaze falls onto you frequently.
You finish up your meal, and the performers finish up their set. When they bow for the final time and step off stage, Aizel hums and stands, grinning down at you.
"It’s been a pleasure to spend the evening with you, (y/n). Thank you for your company, it was most appreciated."
He turns, his tail swishing behind him as he steps out of the lounge.
How odd...
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Aizel
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