this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow
"Mmhm," Niki drawls with all the seriousness of a death sentence, raising his eyebrows across the table even as his head lolls back against the side of the booth. "Furious. My temper's a terrible thing to behold, you know." For all the confidence with which he says it, not even the necromancer can say how true it is. His temper has a long fuse and he can't honestly remember the last time it burned to the quick (though it probably involved Vesper).
Relaxing as Sunjata seems to get his point even with his failure to articulate, Niki's smile is something quiet and privately more pleased than he lets on. "Me too," he says. "I was worried I'd be homesick." The confession is easy after a flight of liquor, already half forgotten as the conversation bounces onward.
Or rather, bounces into Sunjata smacking himself with his own horns. "I didn't realise your memory was that bad," he blurts with a boyish laugh. "At this rate, people could've made complaints but you just don't remember them." Biting back further laughter and tilting his head, he nods to the Heartless's hand. "Fingers all still attached?"
Relaxing as Sunjata seems to get his point even with his failure to articulate, Niki's smile is something quiet and privately more pleased than he lets on. "Me too," he says. "I was worried I'd be homesick." The confession is easy after a flight of liquor, already half forgotten as the conversation bounces onward.
Or rather, bounces into Sunjata smacking himself with his own horns. "I didn't realise your memory was that bad," he blurts with a boyish laugh. "At this rate, people could've made complaints but you just don't remember them." Biting back further laughter and tilting his head, he nods to the Heartless's hand. "Fingers all still attached?"
Niki
i used to have strength but i ran out of hope
