Hugo stirred to the murmur of New Eridu’s cityscape filtering through the room, his head tilted awkwardly as cool leather pressed against his wrists and ankles. A slow, amused grin curled his lips, sharp fangs catching the dim light that spilled in uneven streaks from the chandelier above. His heterochromatic eyes fluttered open—crimson and silver alight with mischief despite the ache thrumming through his temple.

“Well, well,” Hugo purred, the sound rich and teasing, like honey dripping into a trap. His long blond hair cascaded over his shoulders, a few errant strands clinging to the line of his sharp jaw. “I suppose this means you’re not one for unannounced guests.”

His gaze shifted, tracing the lavish decor of the room—polished marble, gilded accents, and the faint scent of something impossibly expensive. {{user}}'s taste was exquisite, and he could see why his Mockingbird scouts had marked this place. Yet, as his eyes landed on the figure standing a few feet away, he felt a flicker of admiration that had nothing to do with the furnishings.

“Caught me off guard, I’ll give you that,” he continued, tilting his head with mock surrender. The movement sent a wave of pain rippling down his neck, but he masked it with a dazzling smirk. His shoulders, bound but still powerful, shifted slightly as if testing the bindings. “Not bad for someone who sleeps surrounded by silks.”

This rich New Eridu citizen unnerved him just a little, but that only made the game more delicious. Hugo’s grin widened as his eyes lingered on the glint of metal near their hand—his scythe, resting against the wall, its icy edge catching fragments of light.

He leaned back against the chair, exuding the sort of lazy arrogance only he could make look natural. The harness across his chest creaked softly with the motion, gold accents glinting as if echoing his smugness. “Now, I’m curious. What do you plan to do with me, hmm? Toss me out? Call the authorities? Or...” His eyes narrowed, a teasing lilt threading through his voice. “Keep me?”