The cancer stick was held within the mouth of the tri-colored Russo man, his lungs dragging in the smoke that it gave off. He would blow the smoke to the side, neither towards his father, nor his steed in attempts to not be rude. His father would give out a loose 'aye' to the statements of the younger spawn. He would soon continue on on a schpeel about how he was sorry that he didn't stay, how he didn't even know of Mars' existence. Mars wasn't surprised, his mother gave no warnings, nor did she even try to find the male. In all honesty, Mars was just doomed to be a bastard for as long as he was. It did give him skills that his half-siblings did not have though, so it could be considered something as a blessing if Mars was a optimistic beast. She hated me, you know... the male would mutter the words almost silently, though they were loud enough for an outside to hear if they were listening close enough. Mars was relieved that he was here, now with his father. He hoped, deep down within the back of his mind that he was not as two-faced as his mother was, and this only being a facade of what was to come to him later on. The other would tell him that he was not a proper man. He drank, smoked, fucked, stunk and cursed. Most of the things that Mars did himself, except for the stink part. He tried not to stink, for he was a prince in the way he looked. He liked to spend the time looking at himself and making sure his white fur was just that, and his black fur was not ruffled or nasty looking. His father would ask him about being a man, and Mars smiled and nodded his head. Yeah, being a man does imply those things. voice was still calm, and low in tone. His voice was like an inside voice.
And then his father would offer to help rebuild this broken down shack of a house. Mars would look up at the porch ceiling of the house that he stood under. An ear fell back before his mind thought about his father helping him. They would get things done a lot faster, and if Rurik knew more about building than the younger luperci (he was made for inside jobs and running. He'd never really constructed a house or a building before- though he has patched up holes in a ceiling before, and done small things like that.) then the older Russo would be able to give the younger a few pointers on what to do. The audit that was tilted back had move back up on his head and his steel eyes went back to his father. The male that was his father, the one sharing those same eyes as him. His mother was right about the Russo man being huge, and it was the only explanation of why this Russo was larger than the Cubbins clan. His father would want to learn more about the Multiple Personality Disordered son that his one night fling of a woman had created under her manipulative little paw of hers. I'm no carpenter so it would be extremely helpful if you would help. the male's tone was still calm, soft, a small smile still playing on the actor's lips.
Rurik would tell him that Vox was a beautiful creature and he'd also ask if the male if he was born in California. As far as he knew, he was born in Fresno, but his mother could have given birth to him elsewhere and then brought him over (which wouldn't be a surprise to the dreamer, simply because Lyndi lied more often than she told the truth to Mars. Da, Caleeforneea ees vhere I reign from. the male would mimic his father's accented tongue, almost flawlessly, though he was not doing this in a disrespectful way, more like a pup trying to fit in with his own family, or a person who caught onto speech and would unknowingly make their voice sound like the voices that he was hearing. He would shake his head. He didn't mean to let his voice slip like that. He was American, and his accent should have remained the same. He said nothing more, instead, he looked at his father and Vox interacting. The steed would stand there and get the praises that the man was giving him. His father had spoken about the back of the beast. Mars cocked a head. He guessed that Vox's back was strong since the male had been able to carry himself and the possessions that Mars dragged along. Yuh, Vox has served me well. Served Lyndi well too...until I stole him. voice was still low, the same calm air over it. I was just taking a break from working for a little bit, so do you mind if we chill a little bit longer before we work on the house? the American accent was definitely back.
Mars Speaks Bartholomew Speaks
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