July 6th, 2005

hair

(Frolic as you please.)

Dante stepped casually in the front door of the Asylum, hair before his face, shoulders slumped as usual. Glints of light peered behind his hair, eyes searching for some kind of office door. Up to the counter he went, ignoring the call bell to his side. He stood, all six foot five and two hundred and ten pounds of him, looking down at the receptionist behind her white painted cage screen.

"Doctor Crane."