that kind of night

[01.12.2025]

The Boardroom was not a sacred place for their faceless rituals. It was still blatant and obscene, and the order they always followed was explicitly chaotic. But somehow it managed to carry the Syndicate, and, so, it trudged on.

Ursur was never invited, but Crotalus forced him to sit in a chair that had somehow appeared there, just for him, ever since . . . . He sat, mostly listening with absolutely nothing to say–he was no Moondog, but he was ImpDog then and there, the eyes and ears, after all of that and the heartbreaking (had to make it worth it).
Though, sometimes he would summon enough whatever to make his own little propositions, without saying a thing.

And, caught in the blowback, Crotalus could have put anything else on underneath. But he liked to stoke the fires even more than flint, and he loved to revel in the gossip, including that which he spread himself.

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Finally Flower and Hunter can make a bit more of a proper artistic debut. I’ve been building these Moondog goons up a bit, along with Harvest, hoping they will take a bit more center stage. Or at least they can serve as the vessels of gossip to drive and feed Cro’s ego and amusement while everything else crashes and burns.

Side note: I updated the blog theme and layout! Hopefully it will be better at showcasing images now. I keep thinking I must upload more vignettes, too, but then I realize I’ve got a huge scrap pile for maybe-zines . . .

And to that kind of morning,
Koel out.