// ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not //
some have names but most do not //
“Well if she wasn’t so pushy about shit, I probably wouldn’t have felt like leaving her.” He mutters with a little bit of annoyance, nose wrinkling even as Kaisel grows more introspective. “Trust me, you can touch and hold her when she wants you to.” He’d done it before. He had a child with her. If anyone had a chance to touch and hold her, it was those that had a time being her favorites until they no longer suited her.
Or they grew out of her, like Sunjata had.
The Flood continues toying with the water, though, as Kaisel speaks, his steel gaze lifting to scan the younger man curiously — as if he can read between the lines of the things he isn’t saying. “Not really. I mean, home to me was more of a group of people that it was a place. And they knew where to find me.” So while he’d self exiled, those he cared about could - and did - come and visit.
It made it a perfect little piece of paradise.
He watches idly as Kaisel arranges the citrus fruits in varying shades of hues that look almost like a beaded bracelet around the little moat that Sunjata’s still playing with, casting rainbows across the brief bit of sky above it. “Maybe I’m not the best one to answer that.” He admits with a soft laugh, flashing the young Dragoon a smaller, apologetic smile. “I… Grew up in a broken home and I made lots of decisions after that and here that pissed off a lot of people. But I was true to myself and eventually shit came back around.” He shrugs idly, puffing out a sigh past his lips before he shrugs.
“You know when it starts to hurt worse and worse.” He admits softly, as if from experience. “Then you know to cut it off before it gets worse.” Rising from his crouch, he swipes his hands on the outsides of his legs before he goes to collect the empty bag. “Well, you ready to head back?”
Or they grew out of her, like Sunjata had.
The Flood continues toying with the water, though, as Kaisel speaks, his steel gaze lifting to scan the younger man curiously — as if he can read between the lines of the things he isn’t saying. “Not really. I mean, home to me was more of a group of people that it was a place. And they knew where to find me.” So while he’d self exiled, those he cared about could - and did - come and visit.
It made it a perfect little piece of paradise.
He watches idly as Kaisel arranges the citrus fruits in varying shades of hues that look almost like a beaded bracelet around the little moat that Sunjata’s still playing with, casting rainbows across the brief bit of sky above it. “Maybe I’m not the best one to answer that.” He admits with a soft laugh, flashing the young Dragoon a smaller, apologetic smile. “I… Grew up in a broken home and I made lots of decisions after that and here that pissed off a lot of people. But I was true to myself and eventually shit came back around.” He shrugs idly, puffing out a sigh past his lips before he shrugs.
“You know when it starts to hurt worse and worse.” He admits softly, as if from experience. “Then you know to cut it off before it gets worse.” Rising from his crouch, he swipes his hands on the outsides of his legs before he goes to collect the empty bag. “Well, you ready to head back?”
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.
