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Tim lays across the throne in front of the Acheron, head hanging dramatically over the armrest and red dress spilling onto the floor.
“I’m borrreeeddddd,” he whines, glancing at his partners.
“Not my fault you decided to sit this one out,” Jonny says, head peeking up from the pile of gore in front of him before dipping back down. He’s kneeling next to what used to be a body, mouth covered in blood and bile as he chews on intestines in a pace that seems somehow both absent-minded and eager, and his collar jingles faintly.
Ashes abruptly yanks the leash attached to the leather choker, causing Jonny to drop the bit of gut in his mouth with a yelp. Their foot taps expectantly.
“Come on now, pup. That’s no way to talk to Seph.”
“Yeah Cerby, that’s no way to talk to me,” Tim parrots back teasingly, grinning smugly. Jonny growls, before another light tug at the leash signals him to stop.
“I for one am glad he isn’t joining in tonight. I’d hate for blood to get all over that gorgeous dress we just got him,” Ashes says, looking down at their guard dog lovingly. “Now finish the job.”