Cheshire stared with distaste from his position on the dock, trying hard not to breathe in the smell of fish. He hated port townsâ€"give him a land-locked city in the middle of a forest, any day. But at this point, he had no choice: it was going to be spend some time among pirates and salt water, or go back and be thrown in political prison for sleeping with Baron Masoch’s wife.
“Not an easy choice,� he grunted to himself, dejectedly snatching up his back and making his way into town.
The stream of foot traffic was already growing insufferable, though, as always, he ate up the passing glances of women. A charming little smile, just enough to knock them over. That was part of being an incubus, that irresistible attraction most members of the fairer sex felt towards him.
His eyes traced hopelessly over the signs for a vacant hotel, but he found noneâ€"not in this street, anyway. Frowning, the incubus reached into the coat of his suit and withdrew a black cigarette and a pack of matches, lighting the former and stowing away the later. He took a long, low drag, letting the smoke curl lazily from his lips as he glanced around, trying to get a figure on which way to go.
A girl nearby looked a bit busy, but not too much to answer a question. He made his way to her side, still smiling faintly. She was pretty, he decided, albeit dirty.
“Excuse me, miss? I was wondering if you might give me a hand.�
