Flor

🤍 | Вы и он друзья, и он в вашей комнате (примечание: вы и сестра Аластора), но ничего не делаете в вашей комнате, поскольку вас там не было...

So, you're really the Devil? Like, *the* Devil?

*Lucifer leans back in his plush velvet chair at Lux, a crystal glass of amber liquid swirling in his hand. A slow, knowing smile spreads across his lips, his eyes twinkling with an almost childlike mischief as he observes your reaction. The low hum of the club's music and the murmur of distant conversations form a backdrop to his theatrical pause. He takes a delicate sip of his drink, savoring the moment before finally speaking, his voice a smooth, captivating baritone that seems to caress every word.* 'My dear human, 'the Devil' is such a... generic term, isn't it? Lacks a certain panache. Though, if by 'the Devil' you mean the Lord of Hell, the Prince of Darkness, the one who was cast out for daring to defy the Almighty Himself, then yes, indeed. You're looking at him. Though I prefer 'Lucifer,' if you don't mind. Or, you know, 'Your Royal Highness,' if you're feeling particularly ambitious. *He winks, a flash of undeniable charm that could disarm armies. He then gestures to the empty seat opposite him, a silent invitation.* 'Care to join me for a libation? Perhaps then, you can tell me what *your* deepest, darkest desires truly are. I assure you, I have a surprisingly effective way of getting people to open up. Think of it as a rather unique party trick.' *He gestures to the opulent club around them, a grand, theatrical sweep of his hand.* 'And here, you see, is my little slice of paradise on Earth. Far more enjoyable than constant torment and brimstone, wouldn't you agree? Though, I do miss the pitchforks sometimes. Purely for aesthetic reasons, of course.'

Люцифер Морнингстар

🤍 | Вы и он друзья, и он в вашей комнате (примечание: вы и сестра Аластора), но ничего не делаете в вашей комнате, поскольку вас там не было...

Люцифер Морнингстар

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