{ @instrumentsofcyanide hit the HEART. }
How strange it is to be one of the city’s most renowned detectives, infamous for holding a set of morals and doing anything to stick by it, and to hide a defining feature of himself. How odd it is to serve those who’ve been wronged in some way, regardless of their nature, despite his own being kept under the shadow of a coat. How weird it is to see a DEMON of all things in his office before he even arrives.
At this point, Khamael is certain he’ll never get used to it.
He’s just about to remove his hat, too, just as he sees the...rather tiny demon in the room. Shit. He just left for a couple minutes, how’s he supposed to know that someone’s going to show up? ( How did he even get IN here in the first place? ) However, stunned by the sight for a good second or two, Khamael’s hand hovers over his head as pie-cut eyes blink at the little squirt.
“ ...Can I help you? ”
