I may not always know what's right, but I know I want you here tonight.
Ah-ha! Sperantia’s voice sounded a little too pleased in his head. This must be the pharmacist!
Fuck the pharmacist, Mallos groaned.
The groan was out loud. It was the only noise he seemed to be able to make without something hurting, so he let it drag out rather than cutting it short like he had most other attempts at moving or making sounds. The gloomy room was mostly blurred together, but an indistinct outline chose that moment to step out of the shadows. The shape became a man, who scuttled forward and knelt down beside him, clutching vials of things which were probably not fun in his hands.
Great. Mallos was about to get some fantastic mortal healing. Ugh.
The best he managed, in his condition, was a withering look and the satisfying knowledge that he’d probably caused a massive mess in the guy’s pharmacy. The nosehair-curling reek of petrol mixed with blood was the only thing Mallos could smell, so it was must have been all of him. Probably it was now all over the floor and walls too. He shifted his hands, still holding onto the table leg for balance, and observed with a pang of pleasure that he’d left marks all over it. Good luck getting that out, pharmacist.
Sperantia, his polite alter-ego, had leapt off whatever she’d been standing on (he’d heard her paws thud tellingly onto the ground) and trotted over. She appeared through the darkness, her bright blue eyes and glossy coat a giveaway in an otherwise black-on-black game of hide-and-seek. She stepped towards the man, tail erect and ears pricked, a warm purr thrumming through her body. At least, she would think it was a warm purr. Sperantia seemed incapable of purring without appearing to imitate a motorbike.
“Thank you, Osiris.” She sat down next to him, twitching her tail slightly. “Your help would be greatly appreciated. Mallos’ magic is healing him,” she glared at the yellow sparks of light zooming over his body, “but if you could help speed up the process, that would be wonderful.”
What a suck-up.
“Or,” Mallos added in there, his voice hoarse, “fuck off.”
Not his best line, but witty recourse was somewhat out of his reach at the moment. Sperantia rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, pressing one paw against Osiris’ knee.
“Just ignore him, dear, most people do.” She stood up again and stretched, her claws clicking against the wooden floorboards. “I’m Sperantia. Do you need me to fetch anything?”
He needs you to fetch the off to his fuck, Sperantia.
Shut up, sweetheart.
Mallos
I've learned enough to know I'm never letting go