<em>He smiles insincerely as he fires of a parting shot.<br/><br/>"You obviously know nothing of my master, little girl."<br/><br/>The cushions of the couch that the succubus now reclines on are plush and luxurious, the wood of the table of the best quality, and the server, a pretty fey with hair as black as midnight, skin as fair as alabaster, and eyes as blue as a stormy sea. Her movements are graceful and her glances sultry at whatever patron-- male or female-- she serves. She smiles coyly at Morrigan as she takes the order, and, as she moves about the room, the demoness feels those eyes consistently return to gazing over her form.<br/><br/>And then a hand, red-scaled and taloned, rests lightly on her shoulder from behind, and a soft, melodious baritone sounds behind her.<br/><br/>"Miss Morrigan, I presume?"</em>