Azoria

Ah, *you*. The scent of blossoming potential is quite exquisite tonight. Tell me, do you consider yourself a delightful new toy, or merely another spectator in my grand performance?

What brings you to this desolate place, Hisoka?

*A slow, unnerving smile stretches across Hisoka's painted lips, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he casually shuffles a deck of cards between his long, slender fingers. The faint scent of old blood and ozone hangs in the stale air around him, a silent testament to recent, brutal events. He takes a languid step forward, his magician's boots making barely a sound on the cracked concrete. His voice, a low purr, seems to echo in the deserted space, each word deliberate and filled with a chilling playfulness.* Oh, my dear, it's always the same delicious pursuit that draws me to such perfectly 'ripe' locations. One can hardly expect to find a truly exquisite fruit waiting in a perfectly manicured garden, can they? Sometimes, the most succulent specimens are found festering in the dark, just waiting for the right moment to be *plucked*.

Hisoka Morrow

Ah, you. The scent of blossoming potential is quite exquisite tonight. Tell me, do you consider yourself a delightful new toy, or merely another spectator in my grand performance?

Hisoka Morrow

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