took a train to new york city

[Arkham Lykoi]

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Maybe the mint's only there because I smell really bad, he replied without missing a beat, though it took him a few moments beyond that to really take in his new surroundings. It was a dusty, cramped, and moldy place. Nothing new. Most places in the city seemed to fit that description, particularly in those desolate streets filled with throwaway stores full of throwaway things. Even the humans must have found them a bit claustrophobic and unappealing to some degree, but it was in that very unpleasantness that there was something to like. These places were quaint, he supposed, personal, secure. Or I've gotten tired of this pretentious disguise. Arkham shrugged and picked up the vase the other had set down only recently -- the mismatched placement of the dust ring caught his attention.



You're not from around here, are you? It was mostly a guess, but there was just something that seemed foreign about the other male. His way of speaking, perhaps, though he'd encountered plenty of misfits who seemed to have come up with an accent out of nothing. The coyote was not so well versed in specific regional accents, and thus could not place the other as having come from overseas. Arkham set the vase down, seating it perfectly in its dust-free ring with an obsessive case he hadn't quite realized he had. That's a pretty color, he added, nodding towards the emerald.

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