#manicpanicaddict

⚖️You’ve Reached Durán Law: @st4ypuft, @l-ivestudioaudience, @manicpanicaddict, @spxnglr, and @doctorvenko liked for a Hungry Like The Wolf starter

“I told you-- I feel fine!” Says the woman with only a very hazy recollection of a deeply concerning night out. Dolores has gone over her story at least three times at this point, each with a different member of the team. She remembers The Ritz, the tequila shots, shooting down the hot idiot that bought said shots, and taking a shortcut to get home because she couldn’t stand the band that was playing. After that, it’s all a blur. Cloaked figures. Chanting. A dagger. Some kind of weird gargoyle.  Really just an average night in New York City until the statue blew up. She must have walked all the way to Tribeca because she woke up in the firehouse; banged up, slimed, a little hung over, and (thankfully) still wearing pants. She is, however, missing a shoe and that’s the real tragedy as far as she’s concerned. Despite looking like the sole survivor of a disco inferno, Dolores really is... okay? At least physically. She’s sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the couch and having her morning sip and smoke. “Look; I appreciate y’all for taking care of me and I apologize if I caused any trouble,” again, still grateful that she’s wearing pants, “but all I want to do right now is go home and shower before I have to meet with a client today.”

"Now correct me if I'm wrong, but I've heard you got a mean fungus collection."

@manicpanicaddict

“Sorry! I can’t do much about that!” The Eevee chimed. “I would use Wish to heal you, but I have been advised not to. Something about ‘just let it heal on its own’ I guess.”

continued from

“Hold it, chief,” confusion creased her brow, “I don’t know where you live.” Kylie swore they just made the deal for her place. She guessed his place was closer to the venue-that would be more convenient- if not she was going to be miffed about it. Now she’d have to worry about packing up her make up to go.

“Oh, I live pretty close to where PCOC headquarters is. Hell, I think I live there more than I live at my apartment some days.” Peck shrugged as he got up and threw out the coffee cup and took the remainder of the coffee bean candies and started to head out the door. 

“I’m not sure how I could not feel guilt for this.” Ray sighed softly, thinking back through that night. “People were hurt, Egon. Some of them badly. Buildings, cars, homes! All of it was destroyed, and for what?”

“I know. You don’t have to give me an answer now. Can you consider it over the weekend?”

“Is this really necessary?”

Egon tilted his head back into the sink basin. It was cold and hard against his neck and incredibly uncomfortable. He blinked blindly at the tin ceiling of the bathroom, his glasses confiscated for the time being.

“It’s fine, really. I’ve gone longer without washing it.”

“I know you have. I remember Peter telling me he had to bribe you with candy to get you to eat and take a shower after you locked yourself in your room for a week during college.” Ray said, grabbing shampoo and rolling up a soft towel to put under Egon’s neck to try to make the process more comfortable.  “But there’s no purpose in you not washing it now when I’m more than happy to help-- lift your head up a bit.”