Saturday, 2 November 2013

Character Bio of the Subbteranian God


It's the eyes that get them first, the eccentric beady eyes. Does he ever blink at all? There's too much going on in his vast mind to blink.  Theories way above your intellect, plans way beneath your moral standard. Or maybe it's just the cocaine. And what a ridiculous statement, the son of Hades- the son of Hades indeed! Here? In a city where if you can't be good, you better hope to god you're bad.
It's a cold place, a lot of cold people. Late night neon lights and the warmth of another shot are what keep the forgotten women of this city going. Then,- "Hello Princess, I'm the god of the underworld". Don't lie, you'd follow him to. Strictly speaking I suppose that's not entirely false. His reputation proceeds him, an underground network of sinister no faces, less of a mafia, more of a.....cult. With a fittingly masterful cultivator at it's head. An "all round business man", "buys and sells bars", not that he'd tell you what's inside them that he's trading so successfully.
"You've been wronged sweetie" slurred words have never sounded so definite, "it was all his fault" a seedy stroke on the arm had never felt so meaningful, "You're part of the family now." One swig from his chalice, One phonecall made with an overly theatrical press of a button. Another scumbag gone without a trace. Another women with a stamp on her neck. Swings and roundabouts, Snakes and laggards.

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