08-15-2018, 07:57 PM
//retro to injury
"’M I too, late?" Leroy queried as the canine was next to enter the scene, shiftily roving his large body into Stocking’s cabin. He hadn’t seen a film before, and was mighty excited to view one described as explicit. The cheesy soundtrack had caught his attention, yet, when his gaze shifted to the television set, all the screen had to display was darkness, with the occasional flicker instantly fluttering before dematerializing just as quickly as it appeared. Must have been a poorly edited part. His attention returning to the audience, his paws heedlessly ferried him towards one of the few he knew, Aya, the bleak feline who set him up with a goal. Sitting himself down beside the much smaller mammal, he’d playfully greet ”What’s ‘appened so far, boss? Don’t worry ‘bout food, I brought pie.”
The electronic’s visuals still had yet to properly function. The audio was fine; there were obviously-human voices atrociously blabbing their lines from a script that must have been written by mentally disabled high on meth. And then it transitioned into what sounded like a kinkier scene, which, at that moment, he realized that the problem wasn’t the tech. It was him. ”I can’t see fuckin’ anything!” he’d exclaim hotly, envious that others could actually see what was happening. No wonder these guys sat still, looking almost hypnotized at the tube; they’re eyes weren’t messed up like his. He had lived almost six human years of his life, and he never knew of this problem until now. Now, he was at a disadvantage, while everyone else was unfairly perfect. Fuck.
"’M I too, late?" Leroy queried as the canine was next to enter the scene, shiftily roving his large body into Stocking’s cabin. He hadn’t seen a film before, and was mighty excited to view one described as explicit. The cheesy soundtrack had caught his attention, yet, when his gaze shifted to the television set, all the screen had to display was darkness, with the occasional flicker instantly fluttering before dematerializing just as quickly as it appeared. Must have been a poorly edited part. His attention returning to the audience, his paws heedlessly ferried him towards one of the few he knew, Aya, the bleak feline who set him up with a goal. Sitting himself down beside the much smaller mammal, he’d playfully greet ”What’s ‘appened so far, boss? Don’t worry ‘bout food, I brought pie.”
The electronic’s visuals still had yet to properly function. The audio was fine; there were obviously-human voices atrociously blabbing their lines from a script that must have been written by mentally disabled high on meth. And then it transitioned into what sounded like a kinkier scene, which, at that moment, he realized that the problem wasn’t the tech. It was him. ”I can’t see fuckin’ anything!” he’d exclaim hotly, envious that others could actually see what was happening. No wonder these guys sat still, looking almost hypnotized at the tube; they’re eyes weren’t messed up like his. He had lived almost six human years of his life, and he never knew of this problem until now. Now, he was at a disadvantage, while everyone else was unfairly perfect. Fuck.