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03-07-2014, 05:07 PM
OBERON
We must be killers, children of the wild ones.
We must be killers, children of the wild ones.
Viscerally I cock my head towards the craxy sound of snow crumpled beneath hooves, before the sound hesitates and stop. There’re two things I can smell within a hundred feet; a woman and a good bottle of scotch. This was not the better option. I squint through blinds to catch a glimpse of her, but all I get is a vague silhouette. At least she has a good-looking outline, like the kind that leads to a funeral. It holds true that unless you find her in a cemetery, never trust a woman. Not that I’m particularly cynical by nature, (that can be discussed) but expect the worst and impending ‘surprises’ will be less inclined to bite you in the arse. I've got the teeth marks to prove it, if you know what I mean.
A smirk nurtures at the corners of my lips. Black dusted and compact, a biscuit with legs for hours. A gal you knew the first time you met her that you’d be seeing her too often. Not that she was all that fetching, just a nice little mouse that made you want to go home and test all your mouse traps. Puffed- and red-eyed she had certainly been under the weather lately, a real shandivang. That or found my stash of older … liquids of my liking. I could certainly relate.
I am Confutatis. She says, her voice sounding gentle, but so does ‘Vesuvius’ if you say it fast enough. Better not keep the woman waiting for too long, nothing good ever came of that. With a sweet half-pirouette worthy of a circus ballerina on a string I face the damsel in distress, chest puffed and muscles flexing for her sole entertainment. Welcome to Helovia. The welcome committee, eyh? “Well thank you lassie. Name’s Oberon.” Float like a butterfly, sting like a hurricane of mutated wasps.
OOC; Thank you for your patience! So, erhm .. I tried to incorporate his welsh-ish accent and a more film noir chain-smoking-detective-with-legs-on-table, mobster kind of style to see if that would fit him. I hope to get the hang of him eventually. Any comments are appreciated! Cx @[Confutatis]
A smirk nurtures at the corners of my lips. Black dusted and compact, a biscuit with legs for hours. A gal you knew the first time you met her that you’d be seeing her too often. Not that she was all that fetching, just a nice little mouse that made you want to go home and test all your mouse traps. Puffed- and red-eyed she had certainly been under the weather lately, a real shandivang. That or found my stash of older … liquids of my liking. I could certainly relate.
I am Confutatis. She says, her voice sounding gentle, but so does ‘Vesuvius’ if you say it fast enough. Better not keep the woman waiting for too long, nothing good ever came of that. With a sweet half-pirouette worthy of a circus ballerina on a string I face the damsel in distress, chest puffed and muscles flexing for her sole entertainment. Welcome to Helovia. The welcome committee, eyh? “Well thank you lassie. Name’s Oberon.” Float like a butterfly, sting like a hurricane of mutated wasps.
OOC; Thank you for your patience! So, erhm .. I tried to incorporate his welsh-ish accent and a more film noir chain-smoking-detective-with-legs-on-table, mobster kind of style to see if that would fit him. I hope to get the hang of him eventually. Any comments are appreciated! Cx @[Confutatis]
