goodolenutmeg:
As disgusting as some of the patrons were, no person was slimier than Hades. Meg turned her face away from Hades as he wrapped an arm around, her body instinctively twitching slightly away from his form. While she didn’t appreciate Hades trying to sell her off to these patrons (who, in all likelihood, would not remember to return later), Meg held her tongue and kept her opinions to herself.
The men groaned, displeased with the news, but didn’t challenge the man with the very imposing demeanor. “Awh, c’mon, tha’s a load of gaaarbage,” one hissed, pointing a shaky finger at Hades. Oh, that’s a bad idea, Meg thought, a brow raised, curious at how Hades would react but mostly pitying that poor, drunken fool.
His friendly, business-like demeanor twitched ever so slightly as the finger was shoved in his face. For only a moment, a hint of rage flashed through, but it was quickly replaced with a smirk and a low chuckle. “Hey, buddy? If you want to keep that finger--” He slammed both hands down on the bar. The metal slamming against wood echoed, dimming the noise of the patrons who all looked over. “--I suggest you keep it to yourself.”
He cracked and rolled his neck, slipping back into a calmer demeanor. “Now, do yourselves a favor and walk those hefty lil’ tuchuses out of my bar before I get security to do it for yah, how does that sound?”











