when the world turns upside down, you should blame it on me
It is a lofty promise, because where would there ever be the time for it? Time for him to reach out to her if she’s not by his side? At the same time, her not being by his side at least protects her from his own problems, and with it a quiet reminder of the things he’s missing. So he only nods to her with a faint smile across his sun kissed face, shoulders rising and falling with a breath before he’s moving.
He fixes his pants and belt, hissing against the cold metal that bites into his lower abdomen, before he’s reaching for his shirt that had somehow managed to get placed somewhere he hadn’t recalled. But he slips his arms through the short sleeves of it, buttoning it up roughly halfway — the hint of tattoos peeking from beneath the fabric alongside a reddening splatter of bruises along his neck and chest from her. Reminders every time he brushes a hand by them… Until they’re not.
He partially shifts away the horns and the feathers until it’s just him, running a hand through the waves of his hair to fix it in that roguish way of his, before he settles and Haai fumbles around between his legs. His gaze finds her again, her outstretched hand and her question, and he nods. “Of course.” He takes her small hand into his calloused own, giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling her into him to kiss her a bit more fully on the lips — nothing of the heat of before, nothing of the power and ways he had before. Something gentle, something soft, something bittersweet.
He fixes his pants and belt, hissing against the cold metal that bites into his lower abdomen, before he’s reaching for his shirt that had somehow managed to get placed somewhere he hadn’t recalled. But he slips his arms through the short sleeves of it, buttoning it up roughly halfway — the hint of tattoos peeking from beneath the fabric alongside a reddening splatter of bruises along his neck and chest from her. Reminders every time he brushes a hand by them… Until they’re not.
He partially shifts away the horns and the feathers until it’s just him, running a hand through the waves of his hair to fix it in that roguish way of his, before he settles and Haai fumbles around between his legs. His gaze finds her again, her outstretched hand and her question, and he nods. “Of course.” He takes her small hand into his calloused own, giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling her into him to kiss her a bit more fully on the lips — nothing of the heat of before, nothing of the power and ways he had before. Something gentle, something soft, something bittersweet.
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.
