(no subject)

[comewither]

[Mabel holds out an arm that has a very thick and someone old-looking pair of handcuffs attached to it. Attached to the other cuff was something very large and furry. It seems to be some sort of hand, and smells very dead. Mabel herself looks a bit better in the fact that she is currently alive.

Mostly.]

Anybody got a hacksaw?

Comments

[threnodic]

Um, probably somewhere a lot fucking better than I was. [ it's dry, rather than acerbic, but this is really the very tip of the superpower fuckery iceberg where she's concerned. ]

A drink I can do, though you'll probably have to fix the cuff bit yourself. Little trickier.

[comewither]

Maybe. You think werewolves have ghosts? I really don't want to be haunted by Scooby Dick.

[threnodic]

[ she doesn't answer that question; it is not reassuring. ]






Scooby Dick, huh. How'd you meet this guy?

[comewither]

I was hired by a bunch of rich white folks to find out what was killing their pets. 'Maybe a coyote,' they said, the fuckers. Damn thing was eight feet tall and hiding in what looked like a sex dungeon from hell. Least they paid up front.

[and that's probably enough details for today.]

[threnodic]

So do you think he was like a werewolf gimp.

[comewither]

Oh, god, do you think that's a thing people are into? Like all this weird shiny vampire stuff? I probably just killed the dreams of a bunch of internet people too creepy to exist.

[threnodic]

Probably. Hey, can your next question be "how many of you would fuck a werewolf"?

[comewither]

Abso-fucking-lutely it can. I'm writing that one down.