i have done bad things, did them to good people // got no self control, it's the root of my evil
wage war in my head when i'm tryna keep it peaceful // a little feels good, a little more and it's lethal
wage war in my head when i'm tryna keep it peaceful // a little feels good, a little more and it's lethal
It’s a high they both share as he pulls her into the house with him, arms wrapped around her until they settle before the oval mirror, the Flood incapable of keeping his arms from looping around her, peering back at her through the reflection even as she scouts out his face first. All he can offer is that same crooked smile, watching her hair as it glimmers with those streaks of sunlight amongst the auburn hues, rising to her cheeks when freckles start to dot her face like little constellations. “Copycat.” He teases with a low purr, lowering himself so that his head settles above her shoulder, mirroring the freckles that stand out vibrantly against his skin thanks to the summer they’d had.
“Stronger, perhaps? It’s hard to say. I don’t think my scent has changed much since getting it.” It had been all encompassing in the beginning, though, not a single hint of himself leaking out of it in the presence of those that didn’t already find his usual scent appealing (Hotaru).
His grin blooms and a low rumble leaves him, head tilting to bury his face into her dark strands, even as he spies the dark brown of her gaze, sensing that dark wickedness through the bond beneath the layers of their jovialness. “I don’t think anything could beat the original. You may have to prove me wrong.” He says matter of factly, even the look he flashes her through the reflection of the mirror screams the same.
But there’s a mirrored sense of that wicked mischief through the bond as he tries to get her to elaborate her thoughts, keeping his own lips sealed on the matter to see if she says her thoughts first.
“Stronger, perhaps? It’s hard to say. I don’t think my scent has changed much since getting it.” It had been all encompassing in the beginning, though, not a single hint of himself leaking out of it in the presence of those that didn’t already find his usual scent appealing (
His grin blooms and a low rumble leaves him, head tilting to bury his face into her dark strands, even as he spies the dark brown of her gaze, sensing that dark wickedness through the bond beneath the layers of their jovialness. “I don’t think anything could beat the original. You may have to prove me wrong.” He says matter of factly, even the look he flashes her through the reflection of the mirror screams the same.
But there’s a mirrored sense of that wicked mischief through the bond as he tries to get her to elaborate her thoughts, keeping his own lips sealed on the matter to see if she says her thoughts first.
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
