The End of the World (And I Feel Fine) [Hero a.k.a. The Villain]

(I have to be honest, I'm hitting major writer's block trying to write for this, so I apologize if it isn't super well-written. Plus my fucking L key I have to slam on like a damn maniac or it won't input the letter)

Mary skulked through the back alleys of Standasen. Truth be told, she was on her way home. But she was not in the mood to deal with people, so main roads were out. On the other hand, if she ran into some drunk thug back here she could liberate him of his insides without any interference. Now that her powers had started to return, she was positively jubilant about the prospect of returning to her old ways. It had been a period of mere weeks, and yet she found that her lust had built to peak levels without the ability to relieve herself upon the unsuspecting populace of this town.

But of course, therein lay the problem. Mary scowled at the thought. Demons, her own kind, had had the gall to attack her. Her! Though they'd been exactly the catalyst she'd needed to spark her abilities in this hostile place, and she'd dispatched them almost immediately, the thought itself annoyed her immensely. She flicked some ash off of her vibrant red suit and continued onward. Still. Soon she'd be home, and unless she ran into some drug-pedaling idiot or some damn thug, she'd be able to retreat into the comforts of her Victorian furniture and abstract art, strip off her (self-admittedly) regal suit, and recline on the couch with whatever imported beer she'd managed to procure, and perhaps even allow the real Mynoghra to emerge from within the layers of deception that was the "Mary Nichols" facade.

It was almost enough to make her chuckle. Hey, maybe if humans had spirit personas, maybe her and her demon-kin had persona that took human shape? She almost wanted to stop and actually laugh out loud. Still, even if she was infinitely more powerful than some hustler, it wouldn't pay to let her guard down until she got home.

Hero sat on his crate, as he always did, hands in his pockets, not a care in the world to give. His mind was sprawled with the thoughts of the strange figured that paid him a visit nights ago. The voice was still in his head. The voice of more than one person. And that clawed hand. Hero than slapped the thought of it out of his head, continuing his "business". He has been getting a lot more customers than usual. It would be smart for him to move his lab, before the authorities start getting suspicious. If things get heated, it would become a very sticky situation. An idea lighted up inside his brain. Hiring people would be a good idea, especially to get the attention away from Hero. The idea was then negated. He figured in this business, no one can be trusted.

Hero leaned farther into the wall. He didn't really want to leave the abandoned warehouse. It was the only thing that held value to him anymore, how little it may be. It was his place of solitude, to work freely and make his creations of narcotic master pieces. Its not all bad I guess. If I am moving it means that business was starting to pick up. Maybe I can make in the lab and sell in another area. At that moment, Hero saw someone coming down his alley, looking to be in as much thought as he was. Hero stood up. She was around 30, but he has gotten customers from all sorts of ages. "Can I help you? Wanna buy something?"

Hey, I'm just dropping in to let you know I haven't forgotten about this, but I've had this really weird sensation in my hands for the last few days and I don't really like how my hands feel when I type. So, after I get this checked out and my hands start feeling better, I'll make my reply and message you. I'm sorry dude :/

Oh for the love of.

She put on her best innocent smile. Her facade couldn't pull off young or innocent, but she could manage a woman out of her element. Her hideout wasn't far. She just needed to get this little human to let its guard down. If he did that, she might just manage to have a little fun after all tonight.

"What?" she feigned ignorance... and a British accent, "What in the blazes? No, listen, I seem to have gotten a bit turned around in all this madness. I'm looking for the Lumiere District. There was some commotion in the main district though. Afraid I've not much desire to return there any time soon. So stressful. Do you think you can help me?"

Dealers tended to fall for this gag. Oh, she knew how to emulate the type. Self-important, upper-class business woman overwhelmed by life and desperate for any way to take off the edge. It was the type that dealers preyed on. And she had no doubt that this guy was a dealer. Most people don't skulk around back-alley warehouses offering to sell things to random strangers.

She caught herself. She had a nasty tendency to smile when she was excited. And she certainly was. This was the first person she'd encountered since she'd replenished some of her demonic strength. And if he was insistent on peddling drugs to her, he might just get to see her bloody magic firsthand.