Everything is Gray
12-09-2016, 12:39 AM
If he turned just the right way, Poser would disappear from view entirely. It was almost like a talent, even though it was like. Probably fucked up. No matter, as the shadow was actually pretty fucked up anyway. What was a little more fuckery? Hell, here he was. Here he was in the midst of all the things he doesn't want to think or feel, and here he is standing-- wreckage of his own mind everywhere. That was the way things always were with him. Too much or not enough. Everything or nothing. Such was his life. He could smell her blood, metallic, coppery among the must of the caverns. Dripping water and a scared girl. Was that fear, or was that something else? Whatever it was, it happened to be ridiculous. Cocaine chic and shining, the young god's claws click against the shale beneath them. Head high. Elegant, graceful, and entirely something else. Otherworldly, ethereal. "Why are you so upset? I can smell blood, how badly are you injured?" Calm, even in tone. Poser's voice is an even tenor, colored with the quicksilver Russian accent. Words dance in his mouth and lights dance in his brilliant sapphire eyes. They are wide, ears pricked as he moves in the woman's direction. If worse came to worse, Poser could do what he did best-- run. poser breathy way of saying my name |