an immense dog sprang up on deck from below, as if shot up by the concussion, [OPEN]
Who; Sir Francis, the rogue with no known origins, and YOU
What; He was an explorer...
Where; Anywhere you want him to be. Everywhere.
When; Monday (today!!!) afternoon/evening/etc. after scooting out of Elena's
Rating; PG for WILD WACKY ANIMAL HIJINKS, no, more like A for High Octane Nightmare Fuel in the form of a prose?
Status; Open; ongoing
Number One hadn't even been provoked into showing off the Nosferatu as a hound to the Underworld, and yet she had done so. He felt nothing more than delight at her decision, had shown nothing more than a simply, large hound on the tablet as she spoke. Though, the small, Japanese girl had caused a bit of an irksome feeling when she'd been so rude, nothing else had caused him any grief. It did not cause him grief in what remained of a soul, but simply to have Elena spoken to in such a way, he felt, a dog would not like very much. He was not a dog in mind or being, of course, so it was simply another facade he had to adjust and work with when things like that arose.
He set off shortly after, exiting the flapping, smaller door within the door at a pleasant speed, getting outside to spread all his legs and shaking his fur, to roll shoulders and paws and get out of his second abode for a while. Whilst his image to the public was one of genteelness and charm, it would only prove beneficial to take advantage of that in every way possible. Two homes were his to come and go and use as he pleased now. More. He needed more places to rule, more places with more humans, with more blood-filled cretins to hold in their dreams and pull out life stuffs from. The blood was the life...
He had not remain unaffected by the strange happenings, but he was not one to shout that to the world. His words to Ivy still left displeasure and sour tastes in his mouth, but they were also true. Why he had thought of peacefulness was unsettling. Peace was a shame, a true crime against all created beings in the universe.
He would not think of it much longer, however. Nor would he bemoan or apologize.
No, he would do none of that.
He would simply roam the Underworld on earthly, canine feet. Padded feet. Paws.
Who had been affected? He did not know. But what could cheer up a saddened woman more than a great big hound to hug and hold?
What; He was an explorer...
Where; Anywhere you want him to be. Everywhere.
When; Monday (today!!!) afternoon/evening/etc. after scooting out of Elena's
Rating; PG for WILD WACKY ANIMAL HIJINKS, no, more like A for High Octane Nightmare Fuel in the form of a prose?
Status; Open; ongoing
Number One hadn't even been provoked into showing off the Nosferatu as a hound to the Underworld, and yet she had done so. He felt nothing more than delight at her decision, had shown nothing more than a simply, large hound on the tablet as she spoke. Though, the small, Japanese girl had caused a bit of an irksome feeling when she'd been so rude, nothing else had caused him any grief. It did not cause him grief in what remained of a soul, but simply to have Elena spoken to in such a way, he felt, a dog would not like very much. He was not a dog in mind or being, of course, so it was simply another facade he had to adjust and work with when things like that arose.
He set off shortly after, exiting the flapping, smaller door within the door at a pleasant speed, getting outside to spread all his legs and shaking his fur, to roll shoulders and paws and get out of his second abode for a while. Whilst his image to the public was one of genteelness and charm, it would only prove beneficial to take advantage of that in every way possible. Two homes were his to come and go and use as he pleased now. More. He needed more places to rule, more places with more humans, with more blood-filled cretins to hold in their dreams and pull out life stuffs from. The blood was the life...
He had not remain unaffected by the strange happenings, but he was not one to shout that to the world. His words to Ivy still left displeasure and sour tastes in his mouth, but they were also true. Why he had thought of peacefulness was unsettling. Peace was a shame, a true crime against all created beings in the universe.
He would not think of it much longer, however. Nor would he bemoan or apologize.
No, he would do none of that.
He would simply roam the Underworld on earthly, canine feet. Padded feet. Paws.
Who had been affected? He did not know. But what could cheer up a saddened woman more than a great big hound to hug and hold?