this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow
"Mm, some, but nothing like yours," Niki agrees, waving a hand imperiously between them as if his empty glass might fill with water or become somehow sexier, shrugging right back at Sunjata as if to say he'd tried his best. "I hear that the more you practice, though, the more likely you are to learn new magics. Maybe I've gotta raise more dead."
The smirk on his face fades into quiet contemplation, then, as the Heartless opens the Pandora's Box that Niki has presented to him, the necromancer treating the information with kid gloves, drunk or otherwise. "A fight to the death," he echoes of the Trial, wincing to learn that the scar is so brutal because it hadn't been treated with care when it needed it the most.
"Sorry for asking," he says then, realising belatedly that it's probably a bit solemn for an afternoon of liquor and chit-chat. "It does sound like most of your scars are from your father, though," he ventures quietly.
The smirk on his face fades into quiet contemplation, then, as the Heartless opens the Pandora's Box that Niki has presented to him, the necromancer treating the information with kid gloves, drunk or otherwise. "A fight to the death," he echoes of the Trial, wincing to learn that the scar is so brutal because it hadn't been treated with care when it needed it the most.
"Sorry for asking," he says then, realising belatedly that it's probably a bit solemn for an afternoon of liquor and chit-chat. "It does sound like most of your scars are from your father, though," he ventures quietly.
Niki
i used to have strength but i ran out of hope
