ransom notes keep falling out your mouth, mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.
“It will be.” One less thing to worry about, that is. Truthfully, he hasn’t worried about it much at all – knowing that Maeve would have a handle on it and do everything she could to finish it. It was one of the few he didn’t have to focus on. Not like the Wren Society and the Slagveld and the Advocates. Not like his governorship and ruling the entire region of Torchline, along with fixing up his offices for the Governor’s house.
As for Kamaria, though, her laugh mingles with the ghosting of his smile, nodding. “I didn’t know what to expect, truthfully.” He offers with a shrug of a single shoulder. He didn’t know what to expect from a child with his blood, let alone mixing it with a goddess. If he’s being honest, it sounds like a complete disaster – only due to his end. So far, though, it’s gone well, and Kamaria has been one solid pinpoint of comfort for him despite it all. He can fall apart so long as he’s together enough for her, and he would protect her with everything he could.
His gaze lands back on her, the smile fading as she mentions expecting to have seen him sooner and Sunjata’s nodding idly, huffing out a sigh that puffs up his cheeks a fraction and burns his throat to do so. “There has been a lot.” He agrees quietly, arms lifting to fold across his chest, claws tipping the both of them. “I still planned to, I just haven’t had a chance to yet. Though I guess now is as good a time as any.” He shrugs, working his jaw, swallowing against the burn again. “Let’s head back to the beach and you can tell me what happened.” So saying, he doesn’t give her much of a choice, stepping forward to head toward the beach where there was likely an abandoned fire awaiting, places to sit, some semblance of solitude to have this conversation – because he doesn’t have the Slagveld anymore to hold them.
As for Kamaria, though, her laugh mingles with the ghosting of his smile, nodding. “I didn’t know what to expect, truthfully.” He offers with a shrug of a single shoulder. He didn’t know what to expect from a child with his blood, let alone mixing it with a goddess. If he’s being honest, it sounds like a complete disaster – only due to his end. So far, though, it’s gone well, and Kamaria has been one solid pinpoint of comfort for him despite it all. He can fall apart so long as he’s together enough for her, and he would protect her with everything he could.
His gaze lands back on her, the smile fading as she mentions expecting to have seen him sooner and Sunjata’s nodding idly, huffing out a sigh that puffs up his cheeks a fraction and burns his throat to do so. “There has been a lot.” He agrees quietly, arms lifting to fold across his chest, claws tipping the both of them. “I still planned to, I just haven’t had a chance to yet. Though I guess now is as good a time as any.” He shrugs, working his jaw, swallowing against the burn again. “Let’s head back to the beach and you can tell me what happened.” So saying, he doesn’t give her much of a choice, stepping forward to head toward the beach where there was likely an abandoned fire awaiting, places to sit, some semblance of solitude to have this conversation – because he doesn’t have the Slagveld anymore to hold them.
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.
