// ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not //
some have names but most do not //
Everyone around him have got to sound like a broken record at this point; given just how many times he feels like he’s heard the same sentiments. Forgive yourself. He doesn’t know how. He knows he should have done things better and has often spent nights in between the nightmares and attempts to go back to sleep to face another one pouring over the way things had happened, what he could have done differently, everything. And it isn’t just Haai. It’s everyone he’s failed over the years.
It's a very, very long list.
He continues to hold himself together the best he can, arm wrapped around himself, the other desperately wiping away the tears that have slipped down. He still won’t allow himself a full breakdown. He stubbornly doesn’t want her to witness that, over a kitten of all things. It’s ridiculous and he can already hear the ridicule in the back of his mind despite knowing in his heart of hearts that Hotaru would never do that to him.
It's a war he rages with himself. I will try. He admits, even his voice in the bond – though thicker in his accent as they are – are shaky. But it’s all he can do – is try to do better. And so far, if you don’t count his internal turmoil and guilt, he’s been doing great at it. Given the sea panther the option to try and learn about herself and who she is, letting her give into her instincts, letting her learn and make her own mistakes (none of them with potential disasters).
He exhales a shaky sound and wipes at his face again, arms falling from his chest to his sides as he swallows everything back down, no longer feeling that uncomfortable and awkward footing. It's taken the brunt of the worry and fear away enough for now that he can return to her, one hand to take Petronella back despite the mewls of protest, one hand lifting to Hotaru's cheek, slightly damp with the salty tears he'd wiped away. And he guides her chin upward to press his forehead against hers, red rimmed eyes closed when he hums a hoarse "thank you, my liefde," from how tight his throat had been.
It's a very, very long list.
He continues to hold himself together the best he can, arm wrapped around himself, the other desperately wiping away the tears that have slipped down. He still won’t allow himself a full breakdown. He stubbornly doesn’t want her to witness that, over a kitten of all things. It’s ridiculous and he can already hear the ridicule in the back of his mind despite knowing in his heart of hearts that Hotaru would never do that to him.
It's a war he rages with himself. I will try. He admits, even his voice in the bond – though thicker in his accent as they are – are shaky. But it’s all he can do – is try to do better. And so far, if you don’t count his internal turmoil and guilt, he’s been doing great at it. Given the sea panther the option to try and learn about herself and who she is, letting her give into her instincts, letting her learn and make her own mistakes (none of them with potential disasters).
He exhales a shaky sound and wipes at his face again, arms falling from his chest to his sides as he swallows everything back down, no longer feeling that uncomfortable and awkward footing. It's taken the brunt of the worry and fear away enough for now that he can return to her, one hand to take Petronella back despite the mewls of protest, one hand lifting to Hotaru's cheek, slightly damp with the salty tears he'd wiped away. And he guides her chin upward to press his forehead against hers, red rimmed eyes closed when he hums a hoarse "thank you, my liefde," from how tight his throat had been.
the flood
// if you find one, please,
let me know what piece i've lost //
let me know what piece i've lost //
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.
