this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow
"Sunjata," Niki hisses with a raise of his eyebrows, as if the other man has just suggested something heinous instead of macabre and fascinating to a necromancer. "That is the sort of thing I feel my neighbours would look down on. But noted - for later. When the ground isn't so hard." The playful glint in his eye entirely overlooks the fact that he's not particularly adept with a shovel (or any manual labour, but whatever).
He doesn't draw attention to Sunjata's use of physical when it comes to his scars, though he wants to, instead watching him rattle off his traumas like a grocery list. It has Niki biting the inside of his cheek, though quite what he's struggling with is unclear even to the necromancer. Instead, huffing out a laugh as the Heartless returns to his usually suave self, he shifts enough to sit properly in the booth again.
"It sounds as though you have lived a colourful life so far," he says wryly. "At least your scars tell a story, mm? You survived."
He doesn't draw attention to Sunjata's use of physical when it comes to his scars, though he wants to, instead watching him rattle off his traumas like a grocery list. It has Niki biting the inside of his cheek, though quite what he's struggling with is unclear even to the necromancer. Instead, huffing out a laugh as the Heartless returns to his usually suave self, he shifts enough to sit properly in the booth again.
"It sounds as though you have lived a colourful life so far," he says wryly. "At least your scars tell a story, mm? You survived."
Niki
i used to have strength but i ran out of hope
