NERON
the hailstorm
A broody little hole for a broody little meeting, headed by their broody leader. Neron is beginning to feel as though the Ascended have an aesthetic. Hilarious from a man who dresses exclusively in black, true, but he’s nothing if not a massive hypocrite. He arrives on the heels of the others, looking decidedly better than their last meeting - it’s funny, how shrugging off responsibility can do that to a person. Wessex ought to try it.
He tips her a wink in greeting, having to avoid getting his toes gnawed off by a baby landshark, arching an eyebrow at the floating narwhal that circles the room. Eventually he settles in one of the seats, feet propped up on a low table, looking for all the world as if he’s come for a friendly family visit. Let’s get on with it, then.
He tips her a wink in greeting, having to avoid getting his toes gnawed off by a baby landshark, arching an eyebrow at the floating narwhal that circles the room. Eventually he settles in one of the seats, feet propped up on a low table, looking for all the world as if he’s come for a friendly family visit. Let’s get on with it, then.
