NIKI
"I know, I am sorry," Niki agrees; if he'd been in the feline's position he'd have likely given much more than a mrrp of protest, after all. With his cane back in hand, he spends a few minutes making sure the fire is out and that the house is more or less in order before heading down towards his bedroom, assuming his furry shadow to have gone elsewhere - but no. He's still about; right on Niki's pillow, as it happens.
And because cats are able to get away with things that the majority of creatures are not, he does little more than scoff out a laugh and shake his head. "If I end up using you as a pillow instead, I do not think you will enjoy it," he warns, sinking carefully onto the side of the bed and dismissing his cane. It's quiet and methodical, the way the necromancer readies himself for sleep, much like everything else he does, but this is for a reason at least.
Working at buckles and clasps on the brace around his knee, Niki frees his bad leg from the cage of its support with a quiet hiss of pain, setting the contraption to one side for the morning. Pulling off his shirt next, the movement leaving his dark hair boyish and tousled, feline eyes will gain a glimpse of the body beneath the clothes in a way no one else ever has. Niki's frame is pale and slender, his back and shoulders nicked with the odd scar or two and his left forearm littered with more extensive work. But it's nothing to the stark lines of silver that strike in a vee down from his collarbones, joining to plunge towards his navel.
But there's no self-consciousness there now, not when he considers himself alone, and the boy folds the shirt to cast it aside before giving a similar treatment to the slacks he'd put on. "Well, let us hope the rain stops for the morning," he says by way of goodnight, watching expectantly to see if his new friend will move of his own free will, or if Niki's head is going to be the encouragement.
And because cats are able to get away with things that the majority of creatures are not, he does little more than scoff out a laugh and shake his head. "If I end up using you as a pillow instead, I do not think you will enjoy it," he warns, sinking carefully onto the side of the bed and dismissing his cane. It's quiet and methodical, the way the necromancer readies himself for sleep, much like everything else he does, but this is for a reason at least.
Working at buckles and clasps on the brace around his knee, Niki frees his bad leg from the cage of its support with a quiet hiss of pain, setting the contraption to one side for the morning. Pulling off his shirt next, the movement leaving his dark hair boyish and tousled, feline eyes will gain a glimpse of the body beneath the clothes in a way no one else ever has. Niki's frame is pale and slender, his back and shoulders nicked with the odd scar or two and his left forearm littered with more extensive work. But it's nothing to the stark lines of silver that strike in a vee down from his collarbones, joining to plunge towards his navel.
But there's no self-consciousness there now, not when he considers himself alone, and the boy folds the shirt to cast it aside before giving a similar treatment to the slacks he'd put on. "Well, let us hope the rain stops for the morning," he says by way of goodnight, watching expectantly to see if his new friend will move of his own free will, or if Niki's head is going to be the encouragement.
stay your pretty eyes on course
i guess i never really faced my fears before
i guess i never really faced my fears before
