// it's not enough that you're wrestling yourself
but your friends talk shit while you're going through hell //
but your friends talk shit while you're going through hell //
He’s tried so hard to be understanding and patient, tried so hard to search for her with zero sign of anything to point to her. He’s been caught up in running the region, Alys stepping down, the mud and LongNight all alone, and it burns something deep in his chest as he peers over at her and spies the dragonling staring back at him – a protectiveness that flares in his chest that meshes uncomfortably with the dragon currently on display and settled deep in his soul.
He can’t help it.
His jaw remains shut tight, working as she starts to explain – the understanding dawning on him, that she’d been lost in the Draig amongst the snowcapped mountains, a place he’s never been, a place he wouldn’t assume she would have gone to if he hadn’t. And then the bomb drops - I killed her. She killed me. Each scar possibly visible lightens with the strike of lightning, glowing shortly before they fade into nothingness, a horned head shaking as he tears his gaze away from her and feels the sharp sting of hurt burn into something that feels almost helpless. Like he had when Nate had gone to the Draig and died. Like he had when Lusea met her fate with the Frost Giants of Halo.
“I told you.. I couldn’t handle another time.” He manages to grit out, stubbornly staring away from her as his eyes burn with the threat of tears he’s too afraid to let fall. “What the fuck, Ru?” He asks on a hoarse whisper, one that hurts and burns in all the ways he hoped so severely wouldn’t happen again. “I can’t. I can’t keep doing this.” He rushes out, looking back over toward her but not to her face, not letting the siren song call of her reach him in the depths of his anger and sorrow. Instead, the glare is aimed at the dragon.
"You were gone before LongNight happened and I had to handle things here alone for that. I couldn't even stay here, I stayed at the House. And I thought maybe a couple of weeks made sense, that you'd gotten stuck on a project or a plan like you usually do. But then it became months. I looked for you. Deimos and Flora even looked for you." It comes out despite the tension in his jaw, the word vomit he doesn't try to fix or fluff up to make it make more sense. It's raw. It hurts. And it's the shield he keeps in place that he'd never thought he'd have to keep up against her. Not again.
He can’t help it.
His jaw remains shut tight, working as she starts to explain – the understanding dawning on him, that she’d been lost in the Draig amongst the snowcapped mountains, a place he’s never been, a place he wouldn’t assume she would have gone to if he hadn’t. And then the bomb drops - I killed her. She killed me. Each scar possibly visible lightens with the strike of lightning, glowing shortly before they fade into nothingness, a horned head shaking as he tears his gaze away from her and feels the sharp sting of hurt burn into something that feels almost helpless. Like he had when Nate had gone to the Draig and died. Like he had when Lusea met her fate with the Frost Giants of Halo.
“I told you.. I couldn’t handle another time.” He manages to grit out, stubbornly staring away from her as his eyes burn with the threat of tears he’s too afraid to let fall. “What the fuck, Ru?” He asks on a hoarse whisper, one that hurts and burns in all the ways he hoped so severely wouldn’t happen again. “I can’t. I can’t keep doing this.” He rushes out, looking back over toward her but not to her face, not letting the siren song call of her reach him in the depths of his anger and sorrow. Instead, the glare is aimed at the dragon.
"You were gone before LongNight happened and I had to handle things here alone for that. I couldn't even stay here, I stayed at the House. And I thought maybe a couple of weeks made sense, that you'd gotten stuck on a project or a plan like you usually do. But then it became months. I looked for you. Deimos and Flora even looked for you." It comes out despite the tension in his jaw, the word vomit he doesn't try to fix or fluff up to make it make more sense. It's raw. It hurts. And it's the shield he keeps in place that he'd never thought he'd have to keep up against her. Not again.
// you said it feels like you're swimming through mercury
and every night you think you're gonna die in your sleep //
and every night you think you're gonna die in your sleep //
SUNJATA
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.
