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+---- Thread: improv singing made techno -- gator in town square (/showthread.php?tid=9532)
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Re: improv singing made techno -- gator in town square - Crow Roux - 05-29-2019
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4;"]
The attenuated feline's jaw gaped in disbelief as the gator began a charge in the opposite direction of him toward Selby, and he squinted and tensed his muscles to rush forward. Crow would never forgive himself if something happened to his son again with him perfectly able to do something about it. But the gator was intercepted flawlessly, and even he had to admit it was spectacular joint work between Selby and the new girl.
"Y-you alright, Sam?" he would question out of obligation, but his attention was still on Selby; his heart pounded from anxiety and a chastising voice chewed at the back of his skull and told him horrible things. Crow bit his lip until he tasted blood—what if it wasn't really dead, and it would come back and hurt Selby?—but he remained silent this time. His fear would be met with factual rebuttal, and he would sound like a massive idiot.
Re: improv singing made techno -- gator in town square - selby roux ! - 05-31-2019
[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Selby disentangled himself gently from the corpse of the gator, trying hard not to think of the blood that was soaking his paws. The smell of it was acrid in the air, and he felt no satisfaction from the act.
”Erm, it wasn’t a problem, really,” he said, deflecting the compliment. ”Anyone would have done it.” Realizing that he had never met Sam, he added on, ”I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Selby. It’s a pleasure.”
His lamplike yellow eyes flickered to Crow as he spoke. His father’s anxiety was palpable in his voice, and Selby watched with concern as Crow worried his lip. He frowned deeply as he watched teeth break skin and blood spill. ”Hey, it’s okay. No one got hurt,” he began, stepping out of a small pool of blood by his feet. Realizing that blood, even if not his own, would not be comforting, Selby kept a small distance. He itched to ask to treat the small wound, but held back to avoid being seen as patronizing.