Disgrace ;

*Poser* · 10-05-2016, 03:09 PM

Poser is, for all intents and purposes, recruiting. He was going to bring home whoever he saw fit to join the most elite club this world had ever seen. The man himself is an absolute Adonis, why wouldn't he want to be surrounded by those that would fawn over him, those that would fight for his attention. He needs more men in his life. Gorgeous ones. He would fill his club with things he liked to look at, and he would be more than pleased with that for the duration of his days-- what a novel concept, right? Collect things to surround himself by. Boys. Boys everywhere. They would all love each other, okay? Okay cool. Other than the ones he loved on his own, those would be his and only his. That's the only rule. Few rules leads to a happier pack.

Poser crosses through to the frozen north, the frozen... field? Was that really what they called this place? It was so literal. Whatever. His head is high as he crosses into the place, a certain chuckle resonating in his throat. How lovely he feels, and how ready he is to stumble upon the next marble statue to add to his collection. He'd collect them all if he could, take them home, stand them up around the castle. They were far less needy that way too. The whole "being stone" thing probably didn't help a hell of a lot.

There's a girl out here. She's dark, like he is, and Poser catches her a long way off. The shadow moves with a certain elegance that cannot be matched by wolves-- he's something else. Long limbed, delicate faced, absolutely gorgeous-- Russian wolfhound. That whole Russian thing, he's kept that part in the most literal and unfortunate manner, but that's okay. He's okay with that in the long run. From his long way off, the man barks once. It's a greeting, tail wagging as he moves toward her, a shadow on ice.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing alone in a place like this?" His words are gentle, his voice high and nearly androgynous. The Russian accent, too, that had never faded plays with his words. Poser is always playing. Such is typical for the shadow, but he's pleased to see the woman where she stands. She's not as pretty as him. He is safe.
your charged touch
poser
breathy way of saying my name

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