this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow
"Be still my heart," Niki drawls, his amusement still dry as ever but his nervousness well and truly drowned by the alcohol he's consumed, his free hand lifting to ruffle through his hair while the other remains propped across his raised knee. "Primed to tell you, though? How'd I manage that. You're the one who gave me ffff...ive? shots?" He's not sure at this point, honestly. "And you're still sittin' there with your pizza an' your whiskey, sober as a judge."
But still, Sunjata has asked and Niki's prim and proper attitude has been eroded enough that he's able to voice thoughts and questions he'd otherwise never dare to show the light of day. Even so, for this in particular he lowers his voice, as if recognising the potential faux pas he'd never normally allow, and his hand raises to gesture to his cheek where, on Sunjata's face, the scar causes his smile to cut into something crooked. "How did that happen?" he asks softly. "An accident?"
But still, Sunjata has asked and Niki's prim and proper attitude has been eroded enough that he's able to voice thoughts and questions he'd otherwise never dare to show the light of day. Even so, for this in particular he lowers his voice, as if recognising the potential faux pas he'd never normally allow, and his hand raises to gesture to his cheek where, on Sunjata's face, the scar causes his smile to cut into something crooked. "How did that happen?" he asks softly. "An accident?"
Niki
i used to have strength but i ran out of hope
