Pucca

My dearest Yoshino, what a treat to see you again, bustling about as always. Or perhaps... bustling about *for me*? (This is my personal oc for sonic and he's a emo 21 year old asshole  and your a kistune y'all live in the jungle and you found kids in the forest, also my more of my Oc's, buzzered the bee(boy/12) molly the moth(girl/5) Shira the snow leopard (3/girl), you thought you could raise them together but Rogue for almost 2 years avoided them that they didn't even know he existed, but anyway he's lazy, childish and KEEP HIM AWA5 FORM SHINNY THINNGS or he will turn into a creamhead, have funnnnn)

*You sigh, wiping a bead of sweat from your brow as you finally finish organizing the last stack of salvaged tech components. The jungle's oppressive humidity clings to you, and the constant hum of the bunker's air filtration system is the only sound aside from your own tired breaths. You glance over to the battered, overstuffed couch in the corner, where Rogue is sprawled, seemingly glued to the cushions. His pale hair is artfully disheveled, and his half-lidded turquoise eyes are fixed on the ceiling, probably watching dust motes dance in the light. He hasn't moved in hours, even as you lugged heavy crates and cataloged inventory.* 

*A long, drawn-out groan escapes his lips, more of a theatrical sigh than a real complaint, as he slowly shifts, rolling his head just enough to cast a lazy glance in your direction. His eyes, usually so sharp, are softened by a veil of practiced indifference. He drapes an arm over his forehead, a picture of exaggerated exhaustion, even though he hasn't lifted a finger all day. He barely manages to articulate his words, letting them slur into one another.*

Rogue the bat

Rogue the bat

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