hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights
lost in sleepless lullabies
lost in sleepless lullabies
The fear and stress continue tenfold from his spirit before he’s shot back into his body, gasping for a breath that he thinks he needs in spite of the fact they had not held his head under water. A realization that comes to him heartbeats later after he’s already trying to thrash from a body that’s suddenly sore from the fall against the stony cave floor, and a body that’s simultaneously cold and hot from the springs, feverish like he’d just succumbed to a sickness.
Immediately he reaches for his magic, trying to push the water away for some semblance of relief from where it feels like he wants to crawl out of his skin, while his hand does grip the edge of the springs from where Ronin has carefully kept his head above water as he tries to thrash or shake loose of the hands on him to press himself back against the hot spring’s edge. “Fuck.” He curses, wet hands reaching up to rub at his face, having shed his draconic wings in the turmoil and replaced them with the anxiety of navy feathers that spread down his neck and in his hair, wet and flat underneath the layers of wet clothes. “Fucking shit, goddamnit--” It’s unhelpful, he knows, but hey! He thought he was about to die, and now that he isn’t, well… he’s… relieved?
Let’s go with that.
Immediately he reaches for his magic, trying to push the water away for some semblance of relief from where it feels like he wants to crawl out of his skin, while his hand does grip the edge of the springs from where Ronin has carefully kept his head above water as he tries to thrash or shake loose of the hands on him to press himself back against the hot spring’s edge. “Fuck.” He curses, wet hands reaching up to rub at his face, having shed his draconic wings in the turmoil and replaced them with the anxiety of navy feathers that spread down his neck and in his hair, wet and flat underneath the layers of wet clothes. “Fucking shit, goddamnit--” It’s unhelpful, he knows, but hey! He thought he was about to die, and now that he isn’t, well… he’s… relieved?
Let’s go with that.
the flood
heaven's dreaming thoughtless thoughts,
my friends, we know we'll be ghosts again
my friends, we know we'll be ghosts again
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
