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![Chalkdog [comm]](http://d.furaffinity.net/art/nightphaser/1282961914/1282961914.nightphaser_np_chalkdog.jpg "Click to change the View")
Chalkdog [comm]
>> Original art by 
jailbird.
"How fare you, comrade Jones?" said Chevise, laying the thickest accent on his words as he could. A tall, swarthy dog-man leaning against the side of the bridge turned his head towards him. Roscoe tipped his hat and nodded. "If that is a joke, friend, excuse that I forget to laugh."
"Funny you should say that, the dogs your image takes after from Outside look incredulously happy all the time." Chevise set himself beside Roscoe, and made a wide grin with black lupine lips, as an example. "Ha, but so is Roscoe! So, what brings ChebyChev to me today?"
"We've a situation a few nodes away from here, just past the Park. Another guy who couldn't keep his cool. Bit of a freewheeling user, possibly undeclared schizoid." One of Roscoe's dark eyebrows rose. He stood up a bit straighter and hooked his thumbs around both of his red suspenders. "You be wanting me to hold such person down, that is right?"
"Yes. Just so I can get close enough without him popping out residual personalities." Chevise, who rarely saw the samoyed topless, noticed Roscoe's muscles flexing as he moved. "Mental pathology no problem for me, I can handle."
"It's always a spectacle seeing you 'handle' people, Roscoe." said Chevise. His eyes strayed for a while over Roscoe's bare chest again, then smoothly went on towards the quiet European shopfronts on the riverbank. "What do you mean, friend?" Roscoe leaned his head slightly forward, towards Chevise.
"Nothing, it's not important." he replied, while adjusting the sleeve of his sweater. "Say, I've wondered, and forgive me venturing to ask, but why this version of the Seine?" Roscoe turned around, bent himself over the edge of the bridge and propped himself with arms folded under him on the stony surface. His cinnamon-brown eyes watched the sun receding into the dark water.
"I knew one woman once, she lived near the river. Nicest hips I ever seen on women. Found out later she was not a woman Outside, but what does ol' Roscoe care about that?"
"Roscoe doesn't care about that?" Chevise's head dipped slightly as he said it. "You have seen me on Outside, dear ChebyChev. You know this truth." Roscoe said, making circular motions with his hand around his face.
"Still, you do know there's the person behind the character, so maybe-"
"You think too much. You need to feel more, friend." Chevise smiled, conceding the point. They both waited for the dream's sun to set before the work can begin.
>> Hans Zimmer - Old Souls Oh, so Vangelis-y.
For the record, Roscoe is bisexual, both in waking and dog-dream life.
jailbird."How fare you, comrade Jones?" said Chevise, laying the thickest accent on his words as he could. A tall, swarthy dog-man leaning against the side of the bridge turned his head towards him. Roscoe tipped his hat and nodded. "If that is a joke, friend, excuse that I forget to laugh."
"Funny you should say that, the dogs your image takes after from Outside look incredulously happy all the time." Chevise set himself beside Roscoe, and made a wide grin with black lupine lips, as an example. "Ha, but so is Roscoe! So, what brings ChebyChev to me today?"
"We've a situation a few nodes away from here, just past the Park. Another guy who couldn't keep his cool. Bit of a freewheeling user, possibly undeclared schizoid." One of Roscoe's dark eyebrows rose. He stood up a bit straighter and hooked his thumbs around both of his red suspenders. "You be wanting me to hold such person down, that is right?"
"Yes. Just so I can get close enough without him popping out residual personalities." Chevise, who rarely saw the samoyed topless, noticed Roscoe's muscles flexing as he moved. "Mental pathology no problem for me, I can handle."
"It's always a spectacle seeing you 'handle' people, Roscoe." said Chevise. His eyes strayed for a while over Roscoe's bare chest again, then smoothly went on towards the quiet European shopfronts on the riverbank. "What do you mean, friend?" Roscoe leaned his head slightly forward, towards Chevise.
"Nothing, it's not important." he replied, while adjusting the sleeve of his sweater. "Say, I've wondered, and forgive me venturing to ask, but why this version of the Seine?" Roscoe turned around, bent himself over the edge of the bridge and propped himself with arms folded under him on the stony surface. His cinnamon-brown eyes watched the sun receding into the dark water.
"I knew one woman once, she lived near the river. Nicest hips I ever seen on women. Found out later she was not a woman Outside, but what does ol' Roscoe care about that?"
"Roscoe doesn't care about that?" Chevise's head dipped slightly as he said it. "You have seen me on Outside, dear ChebyChev. You know this truth." Roscoe said, making circular motions with his hand around his face.
"Still, you do know there's the person behind the character, so maybe-"
"You think too much. You need to feel more, friend." Chevise smiled, conceding the point. They both waited for the dream's sun to set before the work can begin.
>> Hans Zimmer - Old Souls Oh, so Vangelis-y.
For the record, Roscoe is bisexual, both in waking and dog-dream life.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Muscle
Species Dog (Other)
Size 480 x 600px
File Size 49.6 kB
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