don't you know i'm no good for you?
He lifts his chin slightly when she begins to speak, to talk of continued magical healing or godly healing, and why should he? What has he done to deserve it? Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing to crawl to Safrin’s shrine and beg her to heal him, to fix him because he’s broken and wrong. Magical healing? He wasn’t sure anyone would be willing to now. Tenuous ties with Loren, soon to be tenuous with Jigano, and well – at the end of the day, perhaps he deserved to suffer and drown for everything he’s done.
So he shakes his head to her at that, the bite in her tone. And maybe he’s just spiraled too far down the rabbit hole of his own self misery, his own sorrow to see the light anymore. Perhaps the shadows have invaded too far and he can’t see the worth in having himself around. He’d tried it once, here, at this very spot – chickened out at the last moment. He’s not so sure he’ll stop now. “What self-worth?” He huffs, clamping his jaw down with a small audible click. He’s a sinking stone among her hurricane, and he doesn’t deserve the way she looks at him, the way she still tries to save him.
“I know I did.” He tells her, a hint softer than the war raging within him would suggest. And he runs a clawed hand through his hair once more, pausing to tug at one of the horns as he exhales loudly, frustrated and annoyed with himself and how shit he’d been, how he continues to be. And so instead, he goes on his own tirade, shadowed and dark gaze lingering on her despite how much he hates this, much like how she hated opening up to him. By the end, he’s panting lightly, trying to keep his lungs from seizing as he leans back against the side of the bone bridge again, letting the wind ruffle his hair, his shirt.
And she was right. He had gone back to her, after Hotaru begged, and when she brings up the manipulation once more, his muscle twitches lightly and he flinches internally with a tight draw of an inhale. But she’s right, because that’s what always happened. He’d become too much, he’d become overbearing and overpowering, and Phoebe would back him down in the only way she knew how. To chip away at him brick by brick. He hates it, hates everything about this. And he flinches with the hiss to her tone, arms still folded across his chest, claws clicking slightly as he looks away from her once more.
“I felt responsible, Hotaru.” He says quietly. “I was in the thing that attacked Fiat Lux. I was in it when it crashed through the ice wall and killed Aoife, killed Phoebe's nephews.” He clenches his jaw, shaking his head. “All I wanted was to try and make things right, and I went and ruined it again.” And he’d effectively fucked them all up in one go. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed it, to be honest. But here he was, here it was, how stupid and easily manipulated he was when it came down to it.
But she opens the box, she thanks him and he can’t help but let himself stare at her as she closes the lid to it, hearing the sincerity in her voice, hearing the stiffness too. And he goes to dig himself a deeper grave, because that’s the only thing he’s remotely good at. “You’re the only one to see the real me.” He offers quietly. “Every shitty piece and yet you still tried to help me when I’ve done nothing to deserve it. And I’m sorry, that you trusted me with such dark and terrible things that happened to you. I never wanted to be another one that hurt you.” Despite the way she might deny it, he can see it in her stance, in the way she stands and talks to him – that she’d cared, so incredibly deep… And he had too, he still does, but he’s lost it all in his self-destruction, his negative self-worth.
All he'd wanted to do was love her in return.
So he shakes his head to her at that, the bite in her tone. And maybe he’s just spiraled too far down the rabbit hole of his own self misery, his own sorrow to see the light anymore. Perhaps the shadows have invaded too far and he can’t see the worth in having himself around. He’d tried it once, here, at this very spot – chickened out at the last moment. He’s not so sure he’ll stop now. “What self-worth?” He huffs, clamping his jaw down with a small audible click. He’s a sinking stone among her hurricane, and he doesn’t deserve the way she looks at him, the way she still tries to save him.
“I know I did.” He tells her, a hint softer than the war raging within him would suggest. And he runs a clawed hand through his hair once more, pausing to tug at one of the horns as he exhales loudly, frustrated and annoyed with himself and how shit he’d been, how he continues to be. And so instead, he goes on his own tirade, shadowed and dark gaze lingering on her despite how much he hates this, much like how she hated opening up to him. By the end, he’s panting lightly, trying to keep his lungs from seizing as he leans back against the side of the bone bridge again, letting the wind ruffle his hair, his shirt.
And she was right. He had gone back to her, after Hotaru begged, and when she brings up the manipulation once more, his muscle twitches lightly and he flinches internally with a tight draw of an inhale. But she’s right, because that’s what always happened. He’d become too much, he’d become overbearing and overpowering, and Phoebe would back him down in the only way she knew how. To chip away at him brick by brick. He hates it, hates everything about this. And he flinches with the hiss to her tone, arms still folded across his chest, claws clicking slightly as he looks away from her once more.
“I felt responsible, Hotaru.” He says quietly. “I was in the thing that attacked Fiat Lux. I was in it when it crashed through the ice wall and killed Aoife, killed Phoebe's nephews.” He clenches his jaw, shaking his head. “All I wanted was to try and make things right, and I went and ruined it again.” And he’d effectively fucked them all up in one go. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed it, to be honest. But here he was, here it was, how stupid and easily manipulated he was when it came down to it.
But she opens the box, she thanks him and he can’t help but let himself stare at her as she closes the lid to it, hearing the sincerity in her voice, hearing the stiffness too. And he goes to dig himself a deeper grave, because that’s the only thing he’s remotely good at. “You’re the only one to see the real me.” He offers quietly. “Every shitty piece and yet you still tried to help me when I’ve done nothing to deserve it. And I’m sorry, that you trusted me with such dark and terrible things that happened to you. I never wanted to be another one that hurt you.” Despite the way she might deny it, he can see it in her stance, in the way she stands and talks to him – that she’d cared, so incredibly deep… And he had too, he still does, but he’s lost it all in his self-destruction, his negative self-worth.
All he'd wanted to do was love her in return.
i've learned to lose, you can't afford to
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.
