Kiss me again
Kiss me until I am sick of it
Had the pixies always poked out of the ground like that? He’s not sure but not a single apology falls from the twisted sneer on his lips as he walks on two legs and crushes a few beneath the solid weight of his boots. He doesn’t remember waking up in this form either but it does feel insanely right on his bones and it sure as hell makes it easier to drink. Adorned in a black ruffled shirt (opened just right to expose the smooth skin of his chest) trimmed in fine gold at the sleeves and collar with tight leather pants to match, he strides through his wildflower palace with the same swagger and grace he is known for in horse form. It’s barely noon but of course he’s already drunk, a goblet resting in his curled hand with wine slightly sloshing over the rim.
He spots Leilan and snaps for Steve with his free hand. “Steve you useless bastard, get this man a drink!” The large mammoth trundles into view, dressed in his best tuxedo, a silver tray balanced perfectly at the end of his curved trunk. The red of Obscene’s eyes glow unnaturally bright from under the wild mop of black and gold hair, the fine pointed tips of his ears half hidden and clipped with cuffs of gold, his sneer fading into that smug smile that looks more impish on this human face. “Well Leilan, I know you like to throw a party but lets make this one more of a rager.” There’s a sudden variety of booze (kegs, cocktails, wine, you name it) and a table filled with other unmentionables that horses couldn’t even begin to dream of. An arena appears in a more cleared out part of the meadow for Fight Club and just for the hell of it he snaps his fingers and lightning bolts begin to fire from a sunny sky, scorching the earth wherever it touches. That should make dancing a bit more fun, nothing like the thrill of death to enhance a fiesta.
Obscene