private glory days ╱ diego

VEGAS

I AM COMING UNDONE
Jun 27, 2022
16
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This trip's messing with his head. Walking through all these pretty dens, not having to dodge twoleg kits or stones thrown with some angry shouting. There aren't even many of them outside– all of this greenery, and it belongs to them. It makes him feel twitchy. Angel's still walking around like he owns the place, and maybe he does, but this time it's not enough to inspire the right amount of confidence. He'll follow him, but not happily. All this for some old flame of his, or at least that's what Vegas chooses to call the cat he keeps talking about. Stories of the shit they'd done together, all the good he would do for him. Kerosene. Apparently someone that enjoyed hanging around fancy places like this to kick back. It's not jealousy that makes this so damn difficult. It's not. But he's still so fuckin' uncomfortable in a dozen ways.

Angel jumps up onto a low cement wall, surveying the area with all the imperious cool of an uncontested king. "Ange, V sighs, sticking to the grass though he follows him down yet another street. "You're sure this's where he should be? I'm not all that eager to drag my tail around another day just for you to decide we've gotta look somewhere else." He doesn't get an answer, so Vegas sighs and leaps up to the wall as well and looks around for any signs of life. "'Sides, this place is weird. Feels like someone's watchin' us."

ooc:


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full information.
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VEGAS,  vee  or  v.   will accept others,  either begrudgingly or happily depending on who.
──── uses he - him - his and mascuine titles; accepts others with vague bemusement.
──── approximately  26 moons old,  born during early greenleaf  or  very late newleaf.
──── gay, single ish. crushes easily and on a broad range of men, but doesn't act on it.
 


Watching is an understatement. The pale tom has been staring at them for a while now, seeing them as foreigners in a place that he reigns. His tail bristles slightly simply because of the fact that he already knows that they are just a bunch of ragamuffins potentially looking for trouble. Normally he tries to ignore the lowlifes that come through here and sometimes he does a good job of it as long as they keep their distance. After all he doesn't want to smell their skunk scent nor does he want their filth on him. Alabaster paws shift along the high wooden fence as he wonders at just what they think they are doing here. Should he ask? The mere thought brings a scowl across his face given the context of the situation as a whole. With a huff he pauses on his progression along the fence to simply sit back down again.

The tom just came back from a walk after all, bright yellow vest covering his body. He isn't going to stress himself out after having a good day and so he slowly lays down, green gaze narrowed as he stares at the ones intruding upon his realm. Maybe they will leave soon and be on their way considering it doesn't look like they are finding what they need anyway. His tail sways back and forth against the fence before he yawns slightly.