we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different
the same old things expecting something different
So many things start to flood into his mind the second her voice hits him. It nearly chokes him with the force of it and stills him to watch as she rushes toward him, sprinting through the sand toward him, arms outstretched, like it’s a movie he might have seen back in Korofi. Automatically, his arms reach out, catching her when she reaches him and pulls him into his chest, bent down to envelope her.
Much has changed since the last time they’d seen each other. The last time she had been one of the first to meet him after his betrayal of Safrin. It was before the war, before he lost Nate, before he’d hidden himself away in the Refuge and pretended he didn’t exist for years after. The twins, while the Flood still visited them on occasion, had been given to a home in Kings End that could properly care for them, while he worked on figuring out his life.
And since then, not only could he hear her in the attuned bond again, he’s become one of the strongest — something neither of them likely would’ve ever believed.
It’s evident in the ease of which he invites her into the crushing hug, the way his scars spark with light like lightning to fill the scars on his arms. It’s evident in how he may not smell the way he used to, but instead whatever the Fireheart preferred.
Hands keep her close even as the hug parts and his smile is crooked from the scar still bisecting his mouth, but its vibrant nonetheless. “Gods, I missed you too.” He says on a whisper of a sound, nearly dulled out by the wave crashing behind them. He scans her face, spotting the sheen of tears, and his non scarred hand lifts, still wearing Nate’s ring as he brushes back her hair from her face gently, as if feeling it and scanning her to make sure she’s just as real. “You better.” He says with a bit more to his voice, a sudden whipcrack strikes like lightning through the bond as he wars with the sensation of hope and grief. “Fuck, I’m so glad to see you.” Like little things slotting back into place, like things were slowly being made right again.
Much has changed since the last time they’d seen each other. The last time she had been one of the first to meet him after his betrayal of Safrin. It was before the war, before he lost Nate, before he’d hidden himself away in the Refuge and pretended he didn’t exist for years after. The twins, while the Flood still visited them on occasion, had been given to a home in Kings End that could properly care for them, while he worked on figuring out his life.
And since then, not only could he hear her in the attuned bond again, he’s become one of the strongest — something neither of them likely would’ve ever believed.
It’s evident in the ease of which he invites her into the crushing hug, the way his scars spark with light like lightning to fill the scars on his arms. It’s evident in how he may not smell the way he used to, but instead whatever the Fireheart preferred.
Hands keep her close even as the hug parts and his smile is crooked from the scar still bisecting his mouth, but its vibrant nonetheless. “Gods, I missed you too.” He says on a whisper of a sound, nearly dulled out by the wave crashing behind them. He scans her face, spotting the sheen of tears, and his non scarred hand lifts, still wearing Nate’s ring as he brushes back her hair from her face gently, as if feeling it and scanning her to make sure she’s just as real. “You better.” He says with a bit more to his voice, a sudden whipcrack strikes like lightning through the bond as he wars with the sensation of hope and grief. “Fuck, I’m so glad to see you.” Like little things slotting back into place, like things were slowly being made right again.
but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste
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.
