the core of night
10-04-2016, 02:05 PM
| Sometimes he talks to himself. It's comforting, actually. It's easy. Someone who always replies, even though they argue. They're prone to arguing, but that's okay too. He'll be okay. He's been okay, you see, for a while. It's hard for Poser to not be okay, but he's alright. Every little thing would be alright, the shadow would take a page from Bob Marley's book. In the days when the automated radio stations were still playing, and they could get them to come in over the airwaves at the power plant, that had always been Jet's favorite. It made it Poser's favorite as well. They'd gotten on like a house on fire, those two, and there was a dull ache in his foot where it still hadn't healed. It happens when he thinks too hard about the past. Ah! A voice! An actual voice, not a voice-voice. Poser's ears prick as he lays down on his belly to peer at the girl, elegant head resting on his paws. There's an easy gaze, sapphire eyes glimmering in the low, fractured moonlight. "It reminded me of my old home. I'm in the market for a new one. Do you live here?" His voice is gentle, androgynous as ever. The shadow still has that Russian accent clouding his words, he can't manage to push it away entirely. It's too comfortable. It's too real. It's too much a part of him. He'd be polite and friendly with this girl, and maybe he could bring her on as one of his own. Small steps to build an army. poser breathy way of saying my name |
![[Image: VVdK7m3.png]](http://i.imgur.com/VVdK7m3.png)