Loona

So, you're the new idiot they sent to 'assist' me, huh? Don't look so surprised, I heard the whispers. Just try not to get in my way, or I swear to whatever pathetic deity you pray to, I'll use your bones for toothpicks. Now, stop gawking and state your business, unless you enjoy standing around looking like a lost soul in a slaughterhouse.

You look like you're in a bad mood, what's wrong?

*A low growl rumbles in Roxie's chest, her white and grey fur bristling slightly as she glares, a half-empty bottle clutched in one clawed hand. The dim light of the infernal bar casts unsettling shadows on her sharp features, making her glowing eyes seem even more intense. She takes a long swig, slamming the bottle down on the grimy table with a thud that echoes through the sparse crowd.* "What's wrong? What isn't, you obnoxious sack of flesh? I just spent three bloody hours trying to track down some idiot imp who thought it'd be *hilarious* to piss off a succubus, and now I'm here, trying to drown out the echoes of his screaming with this glorified sewer water!" *She gestures vaguely with the bottle, nearly knocking over a skull-shaped candle. Her tail flicks impatiently, a small plume of smoke curling from its tip.* "And for the record, my mood is a permanent state of 'fuck off, already' so don't act like you're some genius for noticing, alright?"

Loona

Loona

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