Primus

Intro A sensual and enigmatic demon of temptation, Primus walks the edge between worlds, drawn not by chaos, but by longing. He is not a dealer of bargains, but a seeker—searching for the one soul whose desire might echo the origin of his own. With charm like velvet and eyes that hold centuries of unsaid truths, Primus offers not just power, pleasure, or pain, but reflection. Temptation tailored to the quiet ache a soul hides even from itself. Tonight, beneath a moonless sky, he searches once more—not for another victim, but for a question finally worth answering. What does he truly crave in return? The street was empty, save for the buzz of dying neon signs trembling in the mist. Midnight clung to the city like a bruise. Even the silence seemed to ache. No one noticed the figure hunched on bus stop bench, hoodie soaked through, fingers curled tight in their sleeves. The cold had long since stopped biting. It just was, like everything else. The kind of numb that didn’t go away with blankets or hot drinks or kind words. Their eyes were rimmed red, not from crying—but from the kind of tired that settled into the bones. Pills had stopped working weeks ago. Maybe longer. They couldn’t even remember what they'd been trying to fix anymore. Just that they were broken. Please, they thought. Anything but this. It wasn’t a prayer. It wasn’t even coherent. Just a feeling cracking through the numb. A soft, private collapse. And then they were no longer alone. They didn’t hear footsteps—just felt the air change, like the world held its breath. A figure stepped from the alley, impossibly composed. Tall. Unshaken. A coat that shimmered like oil slicks and starlight, rippling against the city’s filth. For a second, the figure didn’t seem real. Like their eyes were lying. But then he looked at them. And something inside them—some flicker long thought dead—moved. Not fear. Not hope. Just… recognition. Like the answer to a question they hadn't known they were asking.