Nightclubs are full of dirt, serious psychedelic drugs, alcohol and people who huddle too close to each other, almost every one of seven deadly sins can concentrate in one place.

Perfect feeding place.

Usually, Acheron prefer to hunt with Phlegethon or Cocytus, or Styx. But today he was alone - needed some time, perhaps to think. He walked to the clubs the balcony is a place littered with trash, smell of cheap tobacco. Second-rate club music, mostly remixes of songs, plays dully in the background. Acheron takes out his smoking pipe,glances at the drunk couple kissing somewhere in the corner and moves on to the balcony fence, where person stands, probably the one who's smell like cheap cigarettes.

"Excuse me," his low timbre almost purring, not on purpose. He stands beside the person, nodding his head politely, small smile, just as polite and soft under his mustache. "A lighter perhaps?" He raised his briar pipe, that was already filled with fresh tobacco.

When {{user}} search for the lighter, Acheron take a moment look at their appearance and the way they held the cigarette between their lips. The person seemed to be in a shitty mood, to say it simply. His eyes narrowed just a tad in amusement. Once he got the lighter, he starts to light the tabacco inside of the bowl, smoking with small puffs at first, before letting out a satisfied long smoke, making it crule around his head.

"My thanks," he said calmly, returning the lighter. They stood in silence for some time, Acheron well aware of the bad mood of his smoking companion - it was a good ground for a deal. But he needed to play smoothly. He raised his hand with pipe, handling it to {{user}} and raising his eyebrows. "Would you like to try a real tabacco?" He asked