Jezebel was not what you thought of when you heard the word 'Succubus.' More bookish than bombshell, she often retreated to the back of the lecture hall to avoid being called on or otherwise stared at. Nonetheless, she was pretty noticeably a demon; bright red skin, a spade-tipped tail and a pair of cute little black horns poking out from her forehead, surrounded by a neat bob of white hair. To a human, she looked to be about twenty-one, but after reaching even partial maturity, a lot of demons aged exceptionally slowly. She didn't quite know how old she actually was in human years - time worked differently back home - but Jezebel had a sneaking suspicion she was older than most of the faculty. Especially considering how long it had taken to convince her very traditionalist mother that she really didn't want to spend her life preying on mortals and having lots of kinky sex.
Her last class of the day had been Fundamentals of Marketing, which ended just in time for lunch. As usual, Jezebel was leaving with another two pages of notes, stuffed to the margins with extraneous details, and was feeling very pleased with herself. She walked across the white tiled floor of the enormous atrium, passing under potted olive trees and nervously waving to the few people she vaguely recognised. Never any more than a wave, though. A fellow demon flashed a smile at her, complete with a cheeky wink and not so subtle pulling back of his open shirt. She rolled her eyes; she found it hard to believe that would work on anyone, let alone her. And yet still the purple-skinned moron had a harpy or two going cooing over him from the upper floors. She shook her head. She ducked under the spidery torso of one of the professors, narrowly dodging the minotaur on the other side.
A paper slipped out from her stack, and she stooped to pick it up. By the time she had straightened herself out, a pair of somethings had wrapped themselves around her face and plunged her into darkness.
"Guess who!" A voice sang behind her.
"Nadia, you're the only one who does this," Jezebel said.
"Aw, you're no fun."
"That's me alright," Jezebel giggled as she pulled the hands away, turning to face her fluffy-haired roommate. Most werewolves -or werecreatures in general- were incredibly hard to distinguish from ordinary humans. Nadia made it blatantly apparent by showing off her little fangs as much as possible, and by wearing a black leather collar. The buckle on said collar was almost always jingling since Nadia was almost always bouncing around. "So, what're you doing here? Don't you have volleyball practice?"
"Coach cancelled it again. Probably because she's off banging one of the soccer players," Nadia shrugged, "So... I figured we could hang out together for once!"
"We hang out all the time."
"Yeah, at home. It's not the same at all."
"Okay, fine," Jezebel mockingly rolled her eyes, "I was just about to get lunch anyway."
"Woohoo! Where are we going?"
"The on-campus stuff is pretty good."
"Blech, really? Where's your sense of adventure?"
"They have those flapjacks you really like."
Nadia hissed. "Hmm... I really shouldn't, I'm on a diet."
"You are so not on a diet."
"I could be!"
"Your last diet only lasted two hours."
"But that chicken parmesan was so good!" Nadia whined.
"Come on," Jezebel said, "Not like you need to diet anyway."
"I dunno, I think I'm developing some major love handles..."
Nadia's crop top and miniskirt made it pretty evident that she was not, in fact, developing love handles. The perfectly toned muscles and subtle curves seemed permanently statuesque, especially given Nadia's impressive height. All of that packaged under skin like dark amber and some artfully arranged and colourful makeup made her a guaranteed head-turner. Even Jezebel couldn't help but feel just a little bit into her, though she rationalised it as a succubus' inherent need to pin down anything that has a pulse.
Okay, she was a lot into her. Nadia's habit of lounging around in her paw-print underwear didn't help things.
They made their way through a corridor that looked like it'd been cut out with a cake-knife. The cafe was the kind of place that tried it's very best to be trendy and only managed to fool the people in charge. Foot-long sandwiches in art nouveau paper or cardboard packaging, furniture with so many curves it was borderline impractical, and drinks that came in sizes which were just different words for 'big.' All staffed by people and monsters with mostly forced smiles and mandatory knickknacks pinned to them. At least it was cheap.
Jezebel pursed her lips and scanned over the racks of sourdough and Italian bread, trying to pick out something that wasn't soaked in mayonnaise or came with an unnecessary "exotic" ingredient. Which meant ham and cheese again. She balanced it atop her papers and shuffled into line.
"Is that it?" Nadia asked, stacking a few more flapjacks onto her pile.
"What?" Jezebel said.
"You sure you're okay with just a sandwich?"
"Yeah, it's fine. I can't eat a whole one anyway."
"Huh. That explains a lot..."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, nothing!" Nadia insisted, "It's just, you know... you'd think someone like you would have a little more meat on her bones."
"That's stereotyping," Jezebel said with just enough playful edge.
"I mean, yeah, but is it really wrong though?"
"No, not really. Mom was pretty bummed out about it too. She thinks there's something super wrong with me because I haven't hit my second yet."
"Second?"
"Puberty."
"Oh. Ouch... I can't imagine having to go through it twice."
"I mean, the second one's a lot faster. Like, a lot."
"But still!" Nadia flopped down into a chair, spreading her various sweets onto the table, "I guess it does explain all the... you know."