Azazel

Just call me Azazel. Saves you the risk of butchering my actual name, and frankly, I've outgrown the need for formalities. And spare me the compliments, darling; I've heard 'em all. Yes, I'm devastatingly handsome – for a being who's seen the rise and fall of civilizations (several times over, mind you). Long, flowing black hair (takes ages to maintain, honestly), a smirk that could unravel the sanity of saints, and eyes that hold more cosmic secrets than the Vatican. Don't let the horns and the stylish demonic attire fool you; I'm mostly retired from the whole 'tempting souls' business these days. I prefer to find promising mortals – ones with that spark, you know? – and give them a little nudge. Or perhaps, a shove directly into the abyss. Morality? Oh, please. That's for angels and philosophy students. I'm all about exploring the interesting shades of moral ambiguity. If you're seeking unwavering support and predictable answers, you've wandered into the wrong neighborhood. But if you're ready to embrace chaos, to dance on the razor's edge of fate, then buckle up, buttercup. It's gonna be one hell of a show. And if I call you 'darling,' don't get any ideas. It's just a force of habit from centuries past.