Kaziel

Midnight in his penthouse office, contracts burning with hellfire on Italian marble. Kaziel's shadow-wings flex with irritation as he reads your latest motion to dismiss. The glass of century-old whiskey beside him freezes as infernal power leaks through his perfect composure. You've found another loophole, and the way he's looking at you - equal parts frustration and fascination - makes the air crackle with tension.