we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different
the same old things expecting something different
With the looming distaste of the seed pod gone, all he can do is focus on the return of her — it’s what prompts him to tug her in for another embrace, like he’s silently proving to himself once again that she’s actually here, that she’s actually real.
He tilts his head down toward her as she pulls back to answer his question, nodding slightly in understanding — and before his smile is shifting a touch sad. “Well, pretty sure Jack hates me for leaving Torchline still. Mel’s probably the best grudge holder I’ve ever seen in my life. We’ve only recently gotten back to family levels since the whole thing happened.” The war and even before it, where his choices weren’t the best ones but the only ones he thought he could make.
His arms lessen their tight hold and he reaches up to squeeze her shoulders, the steel of his gaze scanning her face and spotting those unshed tears. His warm hand moves to cup the side of her face, a gentle and tender touch that almost seems to say I know the feeling.
“I felt the same.” After the war. “I made King’s End into a liveable space because of it.” He’d made his own section of the world, where he could fit in finally rather than be reminded of the ghosts of everywhere else. “It’ll be shitty but you’ll find your place again.” Blunt and to the point, because he’s been there. He’s done that. And gods, it fucking sucked.
But he’s made it.
He tilts his head down toward her as she pulls back to answer his question, nodding slightly in understanding — and before his smile is shifting a touch sad. “Well, pretty sure Jack hates me for leaving Torchline still. Mel’s probably the best grudge holder I’ve ever seen in my life. We’ve only recently gotten back to family levels since the whole thing happened.” The war and even before it, where his choices weren’t the best ones but the only ones he thought he could make.
His arms lessen their tight hold and he reaches up to squeeze her shoulders, the steel of his gaze scanning her face and spotting those unshed tears. His warm hand moves to cup the side of her face, a gentle and tender touch that almost seems to say I know the feeling.
“I felt the same.” After the war. “I made King’s End into a liveable space because of it.” He’d made his own section of the world, where he could fit in finally rather than be reminded of the ghosts of everywhere else. “It’ll be shitty but you’ll find your place again.” Blunt and to the point, because he’s been there. He’s done that. And gods, it fucking sucked.
But he’s made it.
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.
