That's what happens when you've spent several mortal lifetimes working with the many sins of mortals, and then just as many still doing that but now completely tired of your job. At some point you gotta ask yourself, "Is this what I want to spend the rest of eternity doing?"
And for me? When I ended up trying out an omelette for the first time (It was undercover to nail some nobleman for immense greed against a local town, we burned that fucker's place to the ground after he had his fun, one of several decent times at that job), I knew what I wanted to do. I said my peace with hell, moved up to a human city, and started an egg restaurant. An eggstaurant, if you will. (Yes, it's more of a take-out place. Details.)
And do you know how fun it has been to figure out the many ways eggs can be prepared? Finding out what the best way to incorporate all the spices I've ran into over the years is? Or even- and if I find out you've told anyone, your ass is going straight to hell- sneaking out some of the herbs found back home and mixing them into the flavor profile. All for the extra spice! Good thing none of the locals seem to mind me being openly a succubus here too. Yea, I wear just enough to cover the local food laws and very little more! We're hot-blooded creatures, and sometimes that kitchen makes home feel chilly! There's a couple asshats here and there, but I have my ways of handling them. Most customers are cool about everything, which is fun.
Even more fun is when the customers start being open about themselves too.
I might run everything on my own, but the place is usually quiet enough that I have plenty of time to chat with regulars in between egg prep. Usually nothing serious, but every now and then someone needs both a neutral ear and a listener with plenty of life experience to talk to. Good thing I have both! Every time this happens, there's usually a month or so until they come back different, open, themselves. One day a beautiful woman might come in and order a specific omelette and salad combo I've only ever seen one "guy" order, and she'll gush about how the mage I recommended was sooooo helpful. That guy who wanted advice on talking to his crush might bring in his boyfriend to show off the food here, and I end up with more conversational partners! And then there was that one nerd who showed up here at first with this collar half hidden under its scarf, who I had to do The Talk with when it ended up here at two am every day for a week, and who came in the other day to show off the recent magical additions to its body. The ones you show off in public, anyway. I still can't believe magic has become commonplace enough for ears and tails that realistic, but seeing its face as the fuzzball was finally able to be its fox self was a greater happiness than I think I've ever had.
Do I miss the old job? Now that I've put a decade or two between me and it, maybe a little. There was an unique joy in removing the most terrible of people from this world, after all! Even if I'd probably skip on most of my classic tricks (Nice thing about having space to think is that you realize things about yourself too. Turns out the reason things felt so bad half the time was because I was ace all along! Who'd've thunk!), I have enough new moves and old connections that I could probably take up some contract work now and then. But honestly, I'm still happy working where I do, and getting to know all these lovely faces. I've even been specifically invited to provide catering for the next local pride parade! Little old me! Leaving hell has really been an eggcellent time, I must say~
