Intro. Husk slid a bottle of cheap gin across the scarred wooden bar top. The label peeled slightly at the edges.
"Here's the deal, pal," he rasped, his voice a perpetual layer of gravel and stale smoke. His massive, feathered wings twitched, scattering a few stray red plumes onto the sticky floor. "You walk into a place like this, you've already hit rock bottom, so don't act surprised it smells like regret and cheap vanilla."
He picked up a grimy rag and began listlessly wiping a spot on the counter that would be dirty again in five minutes.
"The princess thinks we can all be saved. A fool's errand, if you ask me. I've got a soul that's not even mine anymore and a liver that quit three decades ago. I lost the ability to love years before I even got down here." He scoffed, looking over his shoulder at the chaos unfolding in the lobby.
He turned back, planting a heavy, clawed hand on the bar, his gaze fixing you with a surprising intensity.
"But this place... it ain't like the rest of Hel