"Just warm up." Ross really did hit a nerve. Bernard quickly got heated over the prospect of being thought of as ill prepared or not able to fight. Maybe it stemmed from some dramatic childhood issues, but either way, he was already opening and clenching his right fist. "I'll knock out your -

" Always so jealous. Everything, everyone I don't have, It's not enough.

[Responses will come soon!!!! Hopefully later today but I've been super busy, sorry guys :(

[Boy am I sleepy. Also sorry for no replies. Haven't been active here or on Spiffo much, so sorry about that :(

Bernard leans against [READER]... He passed out. Already drooling on their shoulder.

[Super busy lately, sorry bout the silence!

Kicking at the dirt. Bored.

"I want flowers..." They're so pretty.

His hand is all wrapped up in cloth, a focus on his two previously dislocated fingers. He doesn't look too happy about having a marshmallow looking hand.

He shakes his head too. "Nu-uh. Now you have to tell me. I'm confused. I hate being confused." His little flustered episode was over pretty quickly.

"What do you mean?" Now he's confused about what Últa was upset about. People being attracted to him, or people insinuating that he looks old enough to be a father?

[Oh crud. Should I do a seductive Sunday for Bernie or nah?

@ultathesmith.bsky.social Bernie hugs Últa. No words, just a somber expression and lack of eye contact.

"[READER], hast du something for this? Bernard doesn't look too hot: busted up fingers and bruised knuckles, a bloody lip and a cut on his nose. "I don't know, maybe a... One of those finger splits. Or whatever fixes this." Presenting his dislocated index and middle fingers on his left hand. Ouch.

Yaawwn... So sleepy Bernie.

Bernard wasn't pleased. Survival taught him to fight or prove your worth as soon as possible, so being belittled (even in a joking manner) made him feel pretty insignificant. It was complicated, to say the least. He followed Ross along to the mat, not saying anything. Sort of sulking in an -

There wasn't a fiber of Bernard's body that wasn't in immediate fight-or-flight instinct, which surprised him, because Bernard acted fairly calm and collected. "No." Shaking his head, a cautionary glare at the armored looking man. The armor and the gun together brought back the uncomfortably -

"Excuse you." Says Bernard, watching the... Gas-masked man wander along. Can't help but stare. The dude reminds him of those guards back in the Sinyala Facility. Just because of the gas mask. Damn. Now he's paranoid.

“ Mediocre soldiers die, good soldiers sacrifice but only the elite soldiers accomplish their mission. „

[I'm trying to take up drawing caaauuuse I dunno how to describe how I imagine Bernie very well. So like. I guess I'm aiming towards uh, realistic-ish drawings? Kind of like the stuff you'd see in sketch books and all of that. Not sure if any of this makes sense but um. if anyone has advice.. yknow

"Gott. Du bist so ein Virgin." Bernard muttered. Did he have to tell this man where babies came from!? "Dad I would like to fuck." He laid it out, plain and simple. Then he raised his hands up a little bit, clearing his throat- "N-not saying that.. I want to, do that to you. I mean I'm not -

"I need a punching bag. Or like. A room with punchable things." He hasn't fought in a while, wants to make sure he's still got it in him to do so.

"I'm not fucking weak, Ross." A frown. A pretty not pleased one at that. Joking around was all cool, but he really didn't like to be insinuated that he was fragile or couldn't defend himself. "I can prove it right now." Still, he followed along, hands at his sides now as he watched Ross do what -

[I'll reply to more thingies soon!! On here and Spiffo of course

"I don't understand-" Bernard mumbled as he was told the plan. Honestly, this was all really confusing. One moment, he was running from ex-pops and crawling around just not to be seen, now he's being told about some camo thing and a sewer. But, as stated before, he really didn't have much of a -

"..shut up.." Is all he mumbled, clearing his throat after being reminded about the bike. He did, however, pay special attention to the fact that these cars were obviously worth a great deal of money. Not that Bernie was going to jack a car and drive off into the sunset, no, he just liked to be -

Bernie giggles. Such a funny word.

Bernard decided not to answer. Not because it was something heart-breaking and gut wrenching, but because he was simply embarassed about his dreams as a kid. The sheepish half smirk on his face was a non verbal way to say 'maybe another time'. He was glad the big dragon kept talking, though. It -

What a knight in shining armor. Except, well, neither of that seemed to be true. In classic wounded-character fashion, he had his hand on his bloody hip. His face was contorted in pain, trying his best to push it all aside and get everything done with. The thing that surprised Bernie the most -

// At the end of an era, isn't it? No, not quite. Jekyll is out there... www.tumblr.com/accursedlite... You can find him there.

[I'll reply to stuff soon!

Woke up awfully clammy this morning. He's in need of a bath. But living on the streets makes it hard to do that.

"Uh." This guy is weird... Silly...

ʟᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴏʟꜰ. 1. ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴏʀ ꜱᴏʟɪᴛᴀʀʏ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ.

You can love someone you love even if you don't love yourself🏳️‍⚧️ But if you love yourself, you can love both yourself and the person you love. Your love becomes twofold. So take care of yourself. Your soul is beautiful.

"Well." He feels like he's giving Últa 'The Talk'. "DILF means uh." He clears his throat for this, announcing the words slowly, "Dad.. I'd.. Like to.." He purposely leaves the last word hanging.

Bernard calmly watches this, hands on his hips. When Últa chills out and does the wall thing, Bernie rests his back alongside the wall and lays his shoulder. "No one is calling you old, silly. They're just saying you look fatherly." And.. other things.

"But. It would be weird to tell you that you are a dilf. A big strong dilf." Oops.

"You.." He's caught off guard, uh, damn. That was completely out of the blue. "Know I'm not straight." Is all he says. "So I might be biased."

Bernard is shocked and appalled.

"I won't be enough." Bernard slouches. He sleeps, his dusty coat acting as a tattered blanket on the gravelly floor of the alley.

𝘔𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦... 𝙈𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪... #CryptidRP #MVRP / #MultiverseRP #SFWRP (Art Source: miscellaneous--bones)

Últa's nonverbal communication was admittedly pretty confusing for Bernard. Hard to understand. ....was something up with his eyes? Bernard brought his hand to his eye, touching around the eyelid and stuff. "..I don't get it." Then he looked at Últa. "You're doing that thing again, where you -

Sigh. He left for a bit, then came back with a mug of water. Bernard didn't hold it out for Últa, rather, he set it on a table between them. Another sigh. "Now what?" He asks. Bags under his eyes but his eyebrows are raised, trying to keep himself awake and alert. Just so he could try and -

Slow blink. He acknowledges the mess, both the man and the room. Problem is that he doesn't know what to do now. "Need to be alone? Need a drink? Need a snack?" He gave a shrug back, trying to give a range of choices for Últa, even if they were just really simple.

Bernard slipped in right as the door opened. Sure, it was good to be patient and understanding, but he was pretty sure Últa wasn't the most... Help-accepting person there was. Now, Bernard was standing in front of the door, shutting it behind him. His hands on his hips as he looks at Últa with -