#hadesltd

“Yes. Well-” She rolls her shoulders. A smell rises off her, - not the usual smell, mind you - but one that indicates a certain level of travel. Soot. Brimstone. Ash. “He’s a little busy being a two timing little bitch at the moment.” There is some bad blood, but isn’t there always some bad blood with these old people? Elvis should know, with his father and all. “He’s not going to be of any help. Time for plan B.”

So, you see the good doctor in a compromising position. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

She straightens her back, the sound of bone on bone echoing through the clinic’s darkness. Getting use to inhabiting a  human body is, well - it’s a work in progress, even after all this time. No judgement. She smiles, and even through the dark knows you can see it. The half-man on the operating table doesn’t mind the intrusion, his guts open for the world to see. A little bit of moonlight streams through the window. There is a scratching, coming from somewhere, but to try to pinpoint it would only induce madness. Don’t think about it too hard.

@hadesltd​ said: [ 📱 — sms ] do you need me to pick you up? : ))

“  you  know   what  I   don’t  have  ?  all  day,     so   speak  up or  forget   it.   ”