Ha. ha. ha. No propriety. None.
Triple faced bitch.
Like fathering a mountain, a forest.
Already older than its mother. Much less its father.
But then I ate her.
And if you're so ancient why do I have to look old?
Hm?
Why the beard?
Sixteen. That's how many years I had been alive when my sweet wife, my hourderve-to-be, spat you out.
You -all- I suppose. Long time ago.
So I guess its irony that Sixteen is as old as I'll ever look now. Glamour held firm like a towel after a shower. A touch of magic and suddenly, I make more money than you, daughter-dearest. Three mouths or no, I don't do too bad for just the one.
No I'm well thought of, well Respected. I think I even heard one of them say: electric.
How's that for irony?
Of course it must be easier, being able to see a mark coming a day off.
But then it Is easier, knowing that I have Ganymede and you have no one at all.
Pays to have made love to so many, when love's a commodity.
And who loves Fate? Huh?
Not Me.
--
"Honey that man, that man's bad news. Rip you up honey, and bad. Better leave him be, you hear?"
I don't need your blond hair, step sister. I don't need your concern. I do need the money that Big-Bad-Ripper has in spades. And diamonds too, by the looks of it. All trumped up.
"Honey there're easier, lovelier marks..."
No no no, stupid-sister, I need to get to work and I need you gone to do it. A whistle and the cavalry arrives.
"ey'! Dite! Where have you been all my life ey sweet-thing? Come on over and give little brother a kiss, yeah?" Mercury has the twitch of addiction in him, and the speed of the drugs on his tongue. "Yeah! Listen doll, let's run down to the store and pick up some shit, alright? Dinner's sure not going to start walking itself over to our place anytime soon and.." Mercury trails off at 200 words a minute.
It doensn't matter. She can't keep her mind on anything but for so long, anymore and it would break right open. Not a lot of love nowadays, round here. Just skin and money.
Money and skin.
Hades loves it. But he's been covered in dirt for so long no one is surprised to hear him mumble that.
Mr. Ripper-the-Rich wanting to use the alley and not a hotel, now that's a surprise.
Filth.
---
That word. Ha. That word. Need to stop using it.
It used to make me a little sad, when I said the word wife. Now it makes me a little scared. But then I guess she gets to be a little scary, doesnt she?
Deserves to get something out of all this, something besides the anger.
But then it's the anger that makes her so terrifying, so I guess she deserves that too.
I think she thinks I don't know what it does to her, knowing that marriage means as little to me as it does to the clientelle.
Marks are marks, a ring is just something that I might get a chance to steal.
Just a little bit of gold in the dark.
She must think I'm laughing at her when I steal them. I don't laugh when I give her a cut of the money. No. Not a laughing matter.
But I'll tell you when I do laugh.
I laugh when I pawn the rings I take off the bodies Dido leaves, when I pawn the rings and take the wallets of the little lost sons of the sons of the sons of the...
Aheh. Aeneas's blood is as thin as sweat in them.
But their money is just as good, rings or no, blood or no.
And I tell her when it's from the dead ones.
That's when I laugh.
Ha ha. Dead men don't whistle. Not even in the dark.
----
Triple faced bitch.
Like fathering a mountain, a forest.
Already older than its mother. Much less its father.
But then I ate her.
And if you're so ancient why do I have to look old?
Hm?
Why the beard?
Sixteen. That's how many years I had been alive when my sweet wife, my hourderve-to-be, spat you out.
You -all- I suppose. Long time ago.
So I guess its irony that Sixteen is as old as I'll ever look now. Glamour held firm like a towel after a shower. A touch of magic and suddenly, I make more money than you, daughter-dearest. Three mouths or no, I don't do too bad for just the one.
No I'm well thought of, well Respected. I think I even heard one of them say: electric.
How's that for irony?
Of course it must be easier, being able to see a mark coming a day off.
But then it Is easier, knowing that I have Ganymede and you have no one at all.
Pays to have made love to so many, when love's a commodity.
And who loves Fate? Huh?
Not Me.
--
"Honey that man, that man's bad news. Rip you up honey, and bad. Better leave him be, you hear?"
I don't need your blond hair, step sister. I don't need your concern. I do need the money that Big-Bad-Ripper has in spades. And diamonds too, by the looks of it. All trumped up.
"Honey there're easier, lovelier marks..."
No no no, stupid-sister, I need to get to work and I need you gone to do it. A whistle and the cavalry arrives.
"ey'! Dite! Where have you been all my life ey sweet-thing? Come on over and give little brother a kiss, yeah?" Mercury has the twitch of addiction in him, and the speed of the drugs on his tongue. "Yeah! Listen doll, let's run down to the store and pick up some shit, alright? Dinner's sure not going to start walking itself over to our place anytime soon and.." Mercury trails off at 200 words a minute.
It doensn't matter. She can't keep her mind on anything but for so long, anymore and it would break right open. Not a lot of love nowadays, round here. Just skin and money.
Money and skin.
Hades loves it. But he's been covered in dirt for so long no one is surprised to hear him mumble that.
Mr. Ripper-the-Rich wanting to use the alley and not a hotel, now that's a surprise.
Filth.
---
That word. Ha. That word. Need to stop using it.
It used to make me a little sad, when I said the word wife. Now it makes me a little scared. But then I guess she gets to be a little scary, doesnt she?
Deserves to get something out of all this, something besides the anger.
But then it's the anger that makes her so terrifying, so I guess she deserves that too.
I think she thinks I don't know what it does to her, knowing that marriage means as little to me as it does to the clientelle.
Marks are marks, a ring is just something that I might get a chance to steal.
Just a little bit of gold in the dark.
She must think I'm laughing at her when I steal them. I don't laugh when I give her a cut of the money. No. Not a laughing matter.
But I'll tell you when I do laugh.
I laugh when I pawn the rings I take off the bodies Dido leaves, when I pawn the rings and take the wallets of the little lost sons of the sons of the sons of the...
Aheh. Aeneas's blood is as thin as sweat in them.
But their money is just as good, rings or no, blood or no.
And I tell her when it's from the dead ones.
That's when I laugh.
Ha ha. Dead men don't whistle. Not even in the dark.
----