[size=9pt]A glow from under the door is what drew him in. The dim hallways lit up with it, the same hallway that Moon walked on nights that proved too insufferable to stay within the confines of his room. His restless paws led him to the door, and curiosity got the better of him, as it always did. He walked in.
What he found was an electric kitten, and, at this point, that sort of thing didn't take him by surprise. The Ascendants was home to creatures bizarre and varied, and the jolts that shook the unfamiliar youth before him may as well have been tabby markings. Still, it didn't necessarily mean it was a good thing, so he opened his mouth to ask if she was alright, if she needed him to do something, even though he didn't know what. But images on the table grabbed his attention and it was with that that he forgot Pikachu even existed.
Suite and Marg. Seeing them, now, they looked so fucking beautiful it hurt to look. It made him feel as sick as it did warm to see the picture, because he hadn't found any, before now. He'd looked, but it'd been in vain, and so he'd assumed pictures of them didn't exist. Since their passing, all that lingered in his brain were snapshots of Suite's grin, of Marg's lovely smile and her secret wit, and, on days when the night blended into the day and into the night again, all his brain offered him were faded voices. It was good to see them. He missed them.
He lifted a paw to the picture before he could help himself, and only stalled a moment before touching it. "Fangs and her ball-and-chain." He finally said, voice milky, even though his throat felt tighter the more he looked. Somehow, he smiled, an exhausted, fond thing. "Dunno' how we're still fuckin' functioning without them."
What he found was an electric kitten, and, at this point, that sort of thing didn't take him by surprise. The Ascendants was home to creatures bizarre and varied, and the jolts that shook the unfamiliar youth before him may as well have been tabby markings. Still, it didn't necessarily mean it was a good thing, so he opened his mouth to ask if she was alright, if she needed him to do something, even though he didn't know what. But images on the table grabbed his attention and it was with that that he forgot Pikachu even existed.
Suite and Marg. Seeing them, now, they looked so fucking beautiful it hurt to look. It made him feel as sick as it did warm to see the picture, because he hadn't found any, before now. He'd looked, but it'd been in vain, and so he'd assumed pictures of them didn't exist. Since their passing, all that lingered in his brain were snapshots of Suite's grin, of Marg's lovely smile and her secret wit, and, on days when the night blended into the day and into the night again, all his brain offered him were faded voices. It was good to see them. He missed them.
He lifted a paw to the picture before he could help himself, and only stalled a moment before touching it. "Fangs and her ball-and-chain." He finally said, voice milky, even though his throat felt tighter the more he looked. Somehow, he smiled, an exhausted, fond thing. "Dunno' how we're still fuckin' functioning without them."
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; height: auto; text-align: center; font-family: ; font-size: 9pt; color: COLOR; letter-spacing: -.5px;"][i][b]and die like a hero going home.[glow=black,2,300]