[ There's no mistaking what Nova is. Even if his demonic senses weren't well attuned to picking up the scent of his kind among a sea of bodies, mingling together from the buffet table to the rooms beyond, J's eyes don't deceive. Between the triumvirate of unholy features, Nova is the spitting image of how mankind portrays demonkind within the pages of their religious texts and fairy tales: the beguiling figure of a handsome man adorned with fearsome horns and wings. A romanticized take, when in fact, demons are not the least bit uniform in shape, and most have the appearance of something that's more misshapen and grotesque than anything human. Still, Nova exhibits practically every attribute his ward had once longed to possess in those early days of his immortality. It's a thought that offers more amusement than the exaggerated show of respect he's presented with, enough to keep his gaze lingering on the figure hunched over in a deep bow.

A forefinger taps rhythmically upon the demon's chin as his wheels spin. Whatever conclusion he comes to, it's with the sweep of a broad wing around the slighter demon's shoulders as it coaxes him back over. ] Now, now. I wasn't implying that you needed to skedaddle, only that you were holding up the line. 

If you're feeling especially indecisive, I can help you find something palatable. [ Without missing a beat, J swipes two dinner plates and delivers one into the hands of the guest unexpectedly roped into his company. There's something fluid in the way he moves, even when he gracefully slips into Nova's personal space — Moving close enough to tilt the demon's chin up so that he might better see the Archduke in front of him. ]

All you have to do is tell me what sort of things you typically enjoy.