relive who i've been at my worst,
every single night, looking for a distraction
every single night, looking for a distraction
“I think I’ve heard that before.” He admits, amusement flaring for a few brief moments – however long it lasts before Niki’s kicking him in the ribs. And to be honest? For a man who’s legs are akin to jelly right now, he packs quite a force and nailed him in a spot that will take the breath out of his lungs. Sinking back onto his heels, Sunjata coughs a little and his hand rests on the edge of the bed to additional support, straightening back up after a moment. “I’m fine, it’s okay.” But if he sounds a little wheezy, well, you did a great job Niki.
Though, he supposes, nothing prepares him for how breathless he is when Niki continues to fight his sweatshirt. Eventually, though, he manages to get it off, and Sunjata comes face to face with the very likely reason Niki isn’t comfortable with his scars. Because where Sunjata’s were obviously ones that occurred in fights or survival efforts, the Heartless knows what autopsy scars look like and precisely how they’re done.
And he also realizes that these scars aren’t just the one and done, but done over and over again.
Wisely, his gaze doesn’t linger long – it’s branded in his mind for the moment, though, and likely all night and the next morning, letting a lopsided smile cross his face in a mask to hide the sorrow that burns suddenly in him as his steel gaze focuses up at the necromancer. “Look. No fire magic needed.” He touts a little playfully, proudly and amused. “Comfortable?”
Though, he supposes, nothing prepares him for how breathless he is when Niki continues to fight his sweatshirt. Eventually, though, he manages to get it off, and Sunjata comes face to face with the very likely reason Niki isn’t comfortable with his scars. Because where Sunjata’s were obviously ones that occurred in fights or survival efforts, the Heartless knows what autopsy scars look like and precisely how they’re done.
And he also realizes that these scars aren’t just the one and done, but done over and over again.
Wisely, his gaze doesn’t linger long – it’s branded in his mind for the moment, though, and likely all night and the next morning, letting a lopsided smile cross his face in a mask to hide the sorrow that burns suddenly in him as his steel gaze focuses up at the necromancer. “Look. No fire magic needed.” He touts a little playfully, proudly and amused. “Comfortable?”
the flood
waiting for the sun to rise
pretty sight for some hollow eyes
pretty sight for some hollow eyes
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
