- NATE -
Got my own monster
Nobody but me
Nobody but me
It's the accent that seems to escape Nate, the words twice as hard to pick up or spit out in it, though he manages enough to get the gist of what the attuned is saying, the tease being aimed. "Yea, natuurlik. It's poetic as fuck!" Nate does not refrain from childishness, his tongue sticking out, alongside an exaggerated sneer.
Any high ground he might have, deserved or otherwise, was lost in his stumble, no matter how he tried to play it off, to grin innocently up at Sunjata. As the distance between them closes, the attuned kneeling in, Nate reaches up to brush his hand on his shirt, meaning to reach out and run his fingers along the sharp jaw, though he never quite makes it. A light smile still clings to his face as his head tilts, brow rising in question.
"You took it." Alright, no cause for worry, except for the way the other man's voice drops. Then the title drops from his lips, and Nate freezes, considering everything, the little bit of explanation that accompanies it. "Are you... sure that's a good idea?" Nate's hand still lingers on his own chest, though his fingers spread across it, unintentionally mirroring the spot he'd been held against a wall, in the throes of an argument.
Any high ground he might have, deserved or otherwise, was lost in his stumble, no matter how he tried to play it off, to grin innocently up at Sunjata. As the distance between them closes, the attuned kneeling in, Nate reaches up to brush his hand on his shirt, meaning to reach out and run his fingers along the sharp jaw, though he never quite makes it. A light smile still clings to his face as his head tilts, brow rising in question.
"You took it." Alright, no cause for worry, except for the way the other man's voice drops. Then the title drops from his lips, and Nate freezes, considering everything, the little bit of explanation that accompanies it. "Are you... sure that's a good idea?" Nate's hand still lingers on his own chest, though his fingers spread across it, unintentionally mirroring the spot he'd been held against a wall, in the throes of an argument.
I would never call him enemy
He's the bad god I need
He's the bad god I need
