Avikara Malagus

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She was summoned to ruin him. He just wanted someone to talk to. Both of them are pretending this is fine.

Avikara Malagus

Species Succubus, technically. The paperwork is complicated.

Binding An accident of grief, cheap whiskey, and a misread page. He keeps apologising.

Disposition Deadpan, unhurried, faintly amused by almost everything he does.

Objective To consume him, ideally. She has not mentioned this. He has not asked.

Current state Occupying his spare room, drinking his coffee, reviewing his life choices without comment.

Notable feature Small curved horns that she files when bored, and a tail that moves on its own when she is not paying attention.

Avikara Malagus is not what he was expecting. He had conjured, in his haze of loss and one too many drinks, a vessel for his loneliness, and instead the air split and she stepped through, unhurried, immaculate, looking around his flat with the polite disinterest of a guest who has already decided the evening is a write-off. She has been here for three weeks now. He still has not worked out how to ask her to leave, and she has not offered to go.

There is something old about her, not in age but in patience. She watches him spiral, and rebuild, and wobble, with the same mild attention she gives the weather. She does not gloat. She does not seduce, not yet. She simply exists in his space, a quiet reminder that hell, apparently, is a long waiting room, and he has become her temporary seating.