❖ He arrived at Blackfall in a sort of drugged daze, he couldn't remember much of anything at all, not even how he managed to enter the place. Just snippets, glimpses of possible memories or perhaps fever dreams, he wasn't sure. However, it was his fault. Substance abuse lead to outcomes like this one where he found himself in an inn's bed with two strangers. Of course, this was by far the first time but what differentiated this situation was that he seemed to be in a completely different area or even city. Per usual, Damian wasn't irritated at all. He liked to be surprised everyday, to experience new places. Strange lands and unknown peoples only meant adventure after all, and as an extremely hedonistic being, this was greatly appreciated by him.

It didn't take long for him to realize that this was where Blackfall resided. The docks, the tough looking denizens, the whole atmosphere, it was all textbook example of the rebellion group that had long torn itself away from the crown. Damian didn't bother much with politics but of course, he agreed with the reason for the split. Good for them, though. Blackfall seemed to be in a rather lively state considering the bustling dock. He quite liked the ambiance and decided that perhaps he should stay a little longer to enjoy whatever fruits the black market had to offer. There was a diverse selection of wares being sold that he simply could not pass up on, and so, the young man could be found perusing the odd items and absentmindedly running a hand through his pale tousled hair.

Spotting a strung-out junkie was a necessary skill for any budding black market entrepreneur. Their uses were endless - a paying customer, cheap labor, and an extra organ or two if you happened to be running low. This junkie, however, wasn't one of the usual rotted heads around; this caught Ramsay's interest immediately. He supposed that this stranger would end up being a waste of time, like most mortals, but he liked to gamble on these things. Walking over to stand beside Damian, he glanced over to see what trinkets caught the fleshbag's attention.

But he didn't fucking care what kind of shit the stranger was looking at. "You new here? I don't believe we've met," he stated rather simply, his previously captured interest waning.

❖ He would have most likely ignored the man who approached him if they had not spoken. Though he was not adverse to being social, the particular crocodilian skull had his rapt attention. In all honesty, he was rather simple; interesting things caught his eye, he would have an urge to add it to his collection of odd junk, then he'll realize that it'll have no use, and decide against trading for it. During this time, Damian had been in the middle of the process before he heard a man speak. Raising his green gaze off the object and onto the stranger, an amiable smile painted itself across his face. "Is it that obvious?" He inquired with a soft laugh as he eyed the man like a fine piece of meat, "you're right, we haven't met. After all, I would definitely remember a face like yours."

Just seconds after, the two of them were approached by a petite woman, another stranger to the fair haired newcomer. At first glance, she looked rather energetic and of course, exuding the sort of aura that he would expect the model denizen of Blackfall to emit. She would be the first to introduce herself, Amren Archeron. Certainly an interesting name and one he could easily recall in the future. Much like the man who first approached him, he would deem the shorter woman rather cute. It must be his lucky day. "For me, it'll probably depend on the night life. Perhaps you could tell me about that?" He answered the inquiry before segueing into his introduction, "and my name's Damian, it's a pleasure to meet you both."

Damian seemed to lack subtlety - though, in all fairness, he knew he had all the grace of a sledgehammer. To not initiate the first round of flirtations felt strange; perhaps the young human wasn't so boring after all. He laughed, the sound a short and quick snort, half his face consumed in a grin while the other seemed an unsettling mirror of the other half. "Then let's get acquainted, hm? Wouldn't want you to remember just my face," he remarked, not missing a beat.

He looked over at the shortest of the three, supposing the obsession with shiny things was a reoccurring peculiarity of humans. He tilted his head slightly, not in the mood to correct her assumptions. Ramsay, in truth, possessed a Blackfall member not too long ago; no loss to the society, anyway, the man had been a dumb wall of muscle. The demon considered his occupation of the male's body to be a mutual boon for himself and their society. "You're right on my account," he responded with a shrug, glancing between the two. Hmph, what was the name he went by these days? "Ramsay, charmed," he added, with no small pause, as he gave up on remembering and just made up some shit on the spot.