The Pointed Devil

"Hello Misery." He said, opening his arms towards her and offering the empty space at the small table. On it were two small glasses filled with the familiar intoxicating drink. Misery nodded her head ever so slightly and tried to match his smile but knew that she couldn't ever hope to match his effortless, almost insidious subtle grin.

"It's been a minute." She said back, taking her seat at the table eyeing the glass before grasping it with her hands. Yet, she held back taking a drink and instead played with it, swirling the liquid around.

"It certainly has Misery, was beginning to worry that you had forgotten me!" He put on a feigned whisper of worry. "So I was delighted at your request and told my retainers that everything must wait, Misery was at the door!" He threw his hands in the air as if welcoming an old family member.

The Pointed Devil was everything like she remembered though it had been a little over a year since she had seen the Vulpine. Even with all the craziness of the last few months, the rumblings of war to the east, the quakes that have been hitting the island, the elections within Onamen City itself, the Pointed Devil was as perched as he always was. He sat there, leaning back and relaxed in his seat but Misery knew that the last thing on his mind was relaxation. He was certainly reading her with those keen, awful yellow eyes. Taking in every bit of his surroundings through years of experience in surveillance and an innate knack for reading others. His pupils were the only give away, their imperceptible movement dancing around catching every subtle movement she made. Though Misery had known the Pointed Devil for longer than most anyone she never got too close, most of the time it led to bad endings for those who tried. She tightened her grip on the drink and leaned back to mirror his relaxed state.

"Oh no one can forget the mighty Pointed Devil." She smirked. "Though I'm sure that there are those who want to."

"Many many have." He said, impressing on the word many. "I don't consider myself too memorable, bad for business." He laughed and Misery raised an eyebrow and let herself lose a small chuckle.

"You? Not memorable? Have you looked at yourself lately? Fur styled to a point, shirt and vest that would cut if you looked at them wrong, a cane, and a tall cap? I'd dare to say you make it hard to not remember you."

The Pointed Devil never dropped his sly, impish smile while he let his eyes fall to his own clothes. They matched her description. His fur, immaculately groomed with each point seemingly molded, while a stark white long sleeved shirt hid under a flaming cardinal vest and jet black necktie.

"You think that's me do you? Tsk tsk, I thought you knew me better than that?" He drew another sip of the musky alcohol.

"I mean you've been wearing that git-up since I've known you so I'd say pretty certainly, yeah it's you."

"Misery Misery Misery, have you not learned? That was the first thing I taught you, it's right in your name!" He let his grin drop and shook his head in feigned worry.

"There you go again speaking in your riddles as if everyone gets you. Take a step off your personal pedestal and talk like a normal person, I don't care if you Vulpines have those fancy tongues."

The Pointed Devil narrowed his yellow eyes and leaned forward over the wooden table, his voice dimmed to a whisper.

"See I know Misery. A young daughter of the Imperos nobility. Runaway from the imperial majesty. Learned in the arts of politics and speech from the most prestigious school within the empire itself." He paused and let Misery process his words. She blinked a few times before shaking her head and squeezing the glass tightly.

"Ok and..." she offered. The Pointed Devil lazily sat back in the chair while she, with great effort, worked to suppress the growing nervousness within her.