if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
i know you wanna go to heaven
She slips like he expects her to, and he follows her down, furs and scarves falling in the snow about her. And he watches while the black ink of her tears mixes with the snow, melting and shifting the colors of it. His attention only shifts when Pim approaches in all fury and loud roaring, electric and fierce, beginning to pause while Jata decides it’s the end of him here and now, and he’s surprised it’s taken this long. But Pim pauses, and Jata’s steal gaze slides toward the dragon in the hesitation.
He’d come prepared for the possibility, at least, reaching down into a pocket and pulling out a bit of dried meat, while he uses his other hand to keep Phoebe pressed beneath the weight of him into the snow. He tosses a piece of it to the dragon as a bribe, hoping it’s good enough to not get electrocuted, before he averts his gaze back to Phoebe with a raised brow.
He loosens his grip enough to flip her over, until she’s facing up at him, but he keeps her there. “Phoebe calm down.” He tells her, fighting the urge to brush away the dark ink stained tears. Instead he keeps her arm pinned, a vaguely familiar look about him as there once was, but he pulls back enough to narrow his gaze at her. “It will help.” His accent comes through thicker now, but he doesn’t move until he knows she’s not going to rage at him again – but judging by the ruby blood that streaks from his neck onto his collarbone and shirt, he finds it unlikely. So he tries a different tactic.
“Remember, you were going to show me what snow was? How you laughed when I didn't understand what a snowman was?” He still didn't know what a snowman was, but that was beside the point.
He’d come prepared for the possibility, at least, reaching down into a pocket and pulling out a bit of dried meat, while he uses his other hand to keep Phoebe pressed beneath the weight of him into the snow. He tosses a piece of it to the dragon as a bribe, hoping it’s good enough to not get electrocuted, before he averts his gaze back to Phoebe with a raised brow.
He loosens his grip enough to flip her over, until she’s facing up at him, but he keeps her there. “Phoebe calm down.” He tells her, fighting the urge to brush away the dark ink stained tears. Instead he keeps her arm pinned, a vaguely familiar look about him as there once was, but he pulls back enough to narrow his gaze at her. “It will help.” His accent comes through thicker now, but he doesn’t move until he knows she’s not going to rage at him again – but judging by the ruby blood that streaks from his neck onto his collarbone and shirt, he finds it unlikely. So he tries a different tactic.
“Remember, you were going to show me what snow was? How you laughed when I didn't understand what a snowman was?” He still didn't know what a snowman was, but that was beside the point.
but you're human tonight
SUNJATA
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.
