Eliot smiled back at the being Quentin was alluding to.

"That's Lem," he said. "Short for..." Give him a second to nail the pronunciation: "...Lemfuashim. He's some sort of Pain demon, but his family practically disowned him when he wouldn't let up on the concept of consent. We had a pretty good time, once."

Lem had been a one-time thing, and was likely to remain so. But he was nice. Eliot didn't mind stopping for a chat, whenever he saw him around.

"Most of the natives are indifferent to us, at best. A small handful find us fascinating."