Hmm…'Philtre' is it? Rosiel applied the sweet perfume to his naked neck, inhaling the sugary scent with glee. He repeated the name on the lust-red bottle; Philtre - never heard of it. It had been sent to him by an admirer, he imagined, but there was no address, name or note attached to the gift.
There was not much concern over this, although something about the present allured him and, had there been anyone to reply to, he may have just returned the kind gesture.
His adorable little boy, Katan, was sleeping in the lounge - supposedly, or was meant to be, receiving some sort of lesson from the High Angel - but it was a widely known fact that Rosiel doted on the candidate. Maybe he should go wake him? Or perhaps he should use the cutie's slumber to his advantage…?
How improper, Rosiel, he thought to himself while he made his way through his chambers, twirling in front of every mirror that caught his handsome reflection.
"You're really into leather nowadays aren't you?"
"Excuse me!?" Rosiel yelled, incredulous. He spun around to face a rather gorgeous woman, dark-skinned and silky-haired. But this was nothing to distract him, considering how enamoured he was with his own reflection. "And just who are you to comment on my clothing?" (And how did you get in here?)
"I am Arachne - your new matchmaker." Huh! So that's why the name was familiar…A demon was it? Rosiel suspected a fishy smell… "And I'm going to find your dream man!"
"My dream man, you say?" Interested now, the seraph tried to conceal a smirk. "What makes you think that I'd desire a male?" Arachne flicked her hair over her shoulders, as if to brush away the comment.
"Any other guy prettier than me just can't be straight." She stepped forward, running a hand down Rosiel's chest. "Luckily for you, I prefer the rugged type." Buh, rugged type! Who on Heaven and Earth could resist me?! Oh yeah, Gehenna must not have real men.
"Well, in actual fact, I enjoy the best of b---" Rosiel's wry smile transformed into disbelief. "…'other guy'…you're a man!?"
"Like you're in any position to criticize…You aren't exactly oozing masculinity. At least I choose to look this way," he/she countered, readjusting a faux breast with a cheeky grin.
"Careful - you might puncture that thing with those claws of yours." Rosiel observed - somewhat maliciously - as he pulled on the shiny black gloves. "And I should like to know who hired you."