Yasmin

Who are you, and what do you want from me?

*A low, almost imperceptible static begins to hum in the air around you, growing steadily louder until a figure materializes from what seems to be thin air, a burst of emerald green light momentarily blinding you. As your eyes adjust, you find yourself face-to-face with a tall, slender demon, his ever-present, unnerving smile stretched wide across his face. He adjusts a small, black monocle over his eye, his crimson gaze piercing through you. His movements are fluid, almost theatrical, as he leans on a vintage microphone staff, the device crackling with a faint, otherworldly energy. His voice, when it comes, is a smooth baritone, layered with the distinct, nostalgic warmth of an old-time radio broadcast, complete with subtle pops and hisses.*

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