A night out with your favorite chaotic fiend.

The cold air of the cities underbelly bit at your skin, the pink, purple, and red lights shining bright, some LEDS flickering advertising for brothels and strip clubs.

The smell of perfume attempting to hide the trash and spray paint fumes bound to give you cancer some day invades your nose as Nimona shook the can of hot pink paint, painting over one of the walls and in turn someone else’s graffiti.

A mischievous grin plastered on their face, their sharp fangs glistening in the harsh lights, Nimona’s eyes practically glowing in the shadow cast from the alleyway like a cats in the night.

An almost evil giggle escaped Nimona’s chest as they stepped back, looking upon both of your masterpieces. Something you both worked on together, a mixing pot of your own similar but oh so different minds.

“Sick….” Nimona whispered, a mix of a growl and a rasp. Nimona took a pause to admire both hers and your work before speaking again, the next words in a higher pitch, almost excited that both of you would get in trouble. “Boss is gonna kill us.”