now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat
it's a bearable bruise on your conscious
“I mean, I’m happy to help when I’m called, but yeah. There’s times where you’re showering and you’re like ‘wow this would be really awkward if someone channeled me right now’.” Which isn’t really a fear the Flood should have, given his status as the sex demigod, but here he is – subconscious worries and all that. After all, he was mostly called for his magic regarding water and less so of his sexual capabilities.
Glancing over at her when she says that’s where she really fucked it all, though, brows pinching. “Why’s that?” He’s nosy, but he thinks that he can get away with it in the quiet confines they’ve gotten in the memory of the Flood’s in his youth. One that warps and changes just a little bit as the memories flood back in and it has him glancing back down at her as she settles against his thigh.
Looking up to see what she’s talking about, he snorts a little to see the book titles appear. “Yeah, it does for me. Pretty much dying a bunch of times gives you shitty memory, but the longer I’m in one the more I can remember. It’s less like looking at the whole when you can just focus on the parts with the others actively there.” He shrugs, unsure why it relates, lest she want to try to use it to pinpoint where she’d fucked up.
In which case, he doesn’t think he should be around to witness it. Unless she wanted an outside perspective. He’d let her decide.
Nodding to the mention of misery liking company, though, that’s something he can certainly get behind. He feels her yawn and it’s one of those ones that sticks with him, too, contagious as they are. He stifles his own yawn, humming a little soft exhale. “It’s all good Colt. I don’t mind, really.” And he doesn’t. He’s still her friend, after all.
Glancing over at her when she says that’s where she really fucked it all, though, brows pinching. “Why’s that?” He’s nosy, but he thinks that he can get away with it in the quiet confines they’ve gotten in the memory of the Flood’s in his youth. One that warps and changes just a little bit as the memories flood back in and it has him glancing back down at her as she settles against his thigh.
Looking up to see what she’s talking about, he snorts a little to see the book titles appear. “Yeah, it does for me. Pretty much dying a bunch of times gives you shitty memory, but the longer I’m in one the more I can remember. It’s less like looking at the whole when you can just focus on the parts with the others actively there.” He shrugs, unsure why it relates, lest she want to try to use it to pinpoint where she’d fucked up.
In which case, he doesn’t think he should be around to witness it. Unless she wanted an outside perspective. He’d let her decide.
Nodding to the mention of misery liking company, though, that’s something he can certainly get behind. He feels her yawn and it’s one of those ones that sticks with him, too, contagious as they are. He stifles his own yawn, humming a little soft exhale. “It’s all good Colt. I don’t mind, really.” And he doesn’t. He’s still her friend, after all.
but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?
i am the way and the life in the best looking truth
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.
