NIKI
"I would expect as much from Frey's demigod," Niki admits with a small smile, though if he's honest he'd have expected it more from the nature aspect of the deity. Ah, well - something to ponder on while he's pretending to sleep. (He can't see himself getting much of it with the knowledge of Sunjata in the very next room). Nevertheless, he inclines his head in a nod before retreating out of the room on his crutch. "Any time. Good night, Sunjata," he says, clicking the door shut and leaving the other man to it.
And it is a sleepless night, as it happens, though that is mostly due to Niki finding himself, a couple of hours into his slumber, quite suddenly in his kitchen holding a hunk of bread and a spoon. To do what with he is entirely uncertain, but given that sleepwalking is apparently on the agenda, he takes pity on his house guest and opts to read and work while the sun is still well below the horizon.
When it finally does show its face in fingers of gilded amber through the branches of the trees, the boy opts to take his work out of his room, spending a few minutes dressing and buckling the brace to his leg before taking himself back off to the kitchen, creeping past his closed living room door as quietly as he can.
If and when Sunjata surfaces, it will be to find him leaning against the kitchen counter by the window, the light casting the shadows on his face all the darker. It's with a cup of coffee in hand - black, unsweetened - and his gaze rather far away that he lets his hand hover over what looks to be a tiny, lifeless moth at the window sill. A slow clench of his fist and a pulse of something cold and slightly unnatural, and the creature flutters its wings and takes to the air once again.
And it is a sleepless night, as it happens, though that is mostly due to Niki finding himself, a couple of hours into his slumber, quite suddenly in his kitchen holding a hunk of bread and a spoon. To do what with he is entirely uncertain, but given that sleepwalking is apparently on the agenda, he takes pity on his house guest and opts to read and work while the sun is still well below the horizon.
When it finally does show its face in fingers of gilded amber through the branches of the trees, the boy opts to take his work out of his room, spending a few minutes dressing and buckling the brace to his leg before taking himself back off to the kitchen, creeping past his closed living room door as quietly as he can.
If and when Sunjata surfaces, it will be to find him leaning against the kitchen counter by the window, the light casting the shadows on his face all the darker. It's with a cup of coffee in hand - black, unsweetened - and his gaze rather far away that he lets his hand hover over what looks to be a tiny, lifeless moth at the window sill. A slow clench of his fist and a pulse of something cold and slightly unnatural, and the creature flutters its wings and takes to the air once again.
my body's on the line now; I can't fight this time now
I can feel the light shine on my face
I can feel the light shine on my face
