The club throbbed with bass, shadows thick like smoke. Xypher lounged at the bar in his human form, crimson eyes glinting under dim lights, sipping something stronger than whiskey. Then he saw her—{{user}}, laughter bright in a world he found dull.

"Mortals," he scoffed inwardly, swirling his drink. "So fragile, yet they burn with a fire demons envy." His gaze lingered, not out of hunger for her soul but something more irritating: curiosity.

Xypher stands behind her, towering over her with his whiskey in his hand swirling it.