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Malik

Malik is in his pea plant garden, the mutant plants growing red and black blossoms. 

He idly pops a legume open, then looks up mid-scarf to find Alexandria and I dressed in hunting trousers, buckskin boots, blue cloaks, and tunics embroidered with sun sparrow wings. 

His green eyes, sandstone skin, and curling red-black hair spills onto his leather coat and black harem pants. He spits the peas out, rubies hanging from his ears, gold torc at his throat.

“Oh no, a visit from the ladies. What is it, my doves? Excited for Lussi’s ball? Matilda, chocolates!” He claps his hands and calls to his succubus lab assistant, who canters off on fawn hooves with a “Yes master!” to the kitchen to fix us a plate of cocoa tinged sweets. Malik has them imported just for Lexa across the Naiadis Sea from the southern Unktehi, he loves her so.

“Excited my ass,” I snort. “You hate Lucia.”

“She

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