[m] sonic ray gun, gonna be a super-star

POSTED: Mon Jul 23, 2018 2:25 am

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

pump your veins with gushing gold


His voice drummed in cadance, light and buzzing and lilting on the curves of his smile, catching against points in his teeth.

"Another," he insisted, louder this time, while lean fingers tugged at the cropped edges of the dog's ears, to which the pale man gave a violent noise of opposition and waved away fingers with irritated remarks in a tongue that was like a mockery of Helena's own, but too sharp, too arid.

"Fine! Fuck's sake, stop doing that," Avault muttered, before casting a dry look up to the Valentine, who bobbed next to him with a devilish amusement, pupils blown and inky as his hair, which spilled in untamed rivulets around his shoulders. Julius's tongue felt electric, and he hummed the notes that the dog's fingers plucked out slow and careful, testing the sound against whatever spun in his mind as he drummed up another rhyme. The ugly twang of the horse-hair string made ocean eyes pinch, though his toothy expression held, anticipating.

The following notes, more sure now, sang out a plucky, simple tune, and Avault focused on the placement of his fingers, taking longer pauses between shifting holds than Julius now did, after such practice.

"I thought you were a musician," came a chastizing tone.

"Shut up," came the pointed response, before the pale dog cleared his throat.

"There once was a randy, young fool - Who woke to wet spots on his tool - His doctor, a cynic, yelled 'get out me clinic! - And wipe off that slime, it's your drool!' " Avault flourished his fingers and looked up to the waiting Valentine, who raised his eyebrows, and scoffed.

"That one was terrible. Utterly atrocious," he said, as though deflated, and slumped back into the furs of his bed.

"Yeah, well, they can't all be winners," the Mongrel added, carefully setting aside the bowed shape of the simple rebec by its neck. "Head feeling better, yet?"

"No," Julius repied, perhaps a little too quickly, to harshly, and he threw his elbow over his eyes, listening instead to his heartbeat race against the dog's medication, and the woosh of blood in his tall, gold ears. Avault reached over, and pulled the arm from over those eyes at such a dramatic display, casting a dull gaze from those green, glassy eyes, and narrow, bone fingers gripped back at that white wrist, the Salsolan instead sitting starkly upright to throw that soured expression back against the mongrel. "Why can't you just fix it? What is it?"

"You already ate a dose," the dog replied evenly. "I'm happy to come up with songs to entertain you until it fully kicks in."The lack of a satisfying answer left Julius scowling, those fingers cinching tighter around those wrists, but he didn't dare raise his hands to the dog.

He couldn't do that.

"You're fucking useless." He opted for scathing words. He always did - words were easy to forget, easy to remember incorrectly, but he could easily correct the thought, were it to ever arise again.

"Yet you keep me around, don't you?"

"I pity you," he lied, and took to it like a fish to water - it was easier than facing the alternatives.

Avault merely sighed, and his expression furrowed as he wrenched wrists from Julius's grip, only to find those skinny claws back on him, gripping with less malice as the Valentine choked out a quick 'wait-' on an exhale, the rims of his ocean eyes wide and expression one of mild horror at the potential that the mongrel would dare to leave. Avault did give pause, only freezing in his motion to allude his intentions to follow through, when fingertips dug and pulled wrinkles against the fabric of his shirt. The french dog came by more frequently these days, and nurtured the budding petals of dependence with genuine gestures of good-will, despite his calloused mannerisms and sharp tongue. Julius liked to think he came by, because he genuinely enjoyed his company.

He wasn't so sure that the dependence worked in reverse.

"Don't go, just... Sing me more of your stupid, stupid songs." The white dog paused, and slowly motioned to sit again, and only then did the Valentine's hold relent. White fingers reached for the little, primitive instrument, and pulled at the trio of strings again.

"You know, you're not nearly as fat as you sound," Julius prodded again, and caught a foot against his hip.

"And you're much more charismatic when you're making the effort."

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we've become so good at fooling all
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