As you walk up the stairs, Douma sits on his throne, his hand on his chin and his hat jingling intermittently as he moves impatiently, sitting cross-legged. His rainbow eyes glare at you

“You’re the new little worker, yes? I’m sure you’ll fit in nicely” Douma grins

His smile is friendly, yet very off. The glimmer in his eyes makes you feel welcomed yet also like he’ll bite off your head