// grass stains cut my bloody knees, it's goodpain, it means i can't be phased
that little death inside my sides, won't make it right //
that little death inside my sides, won't make it right //
Mistake #1, he’s left Haai behind, albeit with instructions on where to find him (useless now).
Mistake #2, he’s gotten turned around somehow and lost the pathway back toward home. And where he’s ended up, the jungle’s foliage is too dense for his shifts to be able to try and find the sky.
Mistake #3, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t taken this pathway before, even if his footsteps say otherwise. It could be a trick, it could be many things.
He doesn’t know entirely what it is, only that he’s gotten a bit more confused as of late, things appearing where they weren’t before, things disappearing where he was sure he’d left them before.
One constant that remains the same, a trickling stream that he orients himself to, following it through the lush jungle, entirely on edge – his face bruised still but more yellow than purple. Healing, hopefully in time for the reception soon.
He follows the stream until it comes beside another, then another, then another until it almost appears like veins with the ocean sounding nearby. This, at the very least, might be able to reorient himself toward home – to cast himself out over the ocean and find his way back. For now, however, there’s something peaceful in the way the water seems to drip, the vibrant hues of the foliage nearby.
Calling out to a macaw, he sends it out toward the edge of the streams where they drop into the water, searching for anything and everything that may be a marker of home.
And he waits.
Shaju
Mistake #2, he’s gotten turned around somehow and lost the pathway back toward home. And where he’s ended up, the jungle’s foliage is too dense for his shifts to be able to try and find the sky.
Mistake #3, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t taken this pathway before, even if his footsteps say otherwise. It could be a trick, it could be many things.
He doesn’t know entirely what it is, only that he’s gotten a bit more confused as of late, things appearing where they weren’t before, things disappearing where he was sure he’d left them before.
One constant that remains the same, a trickling stream that he orients himself to, following it through the lush jungle, entirely on edge – his face bruised still but more yellow than purple. Healing, hopefully in time for the reception soon.
He follows the stream until it comes beside another, then another, then another until it almost appears like veins with the ocean sounding nearby. This, at the very least, might be able to reorient himself toward home – to cast himself out over the ocean and find his way back. For now, however, there’s something peaceful in the way the water seems to drip, the vibrant hues of the foliage nearby.
Calling out to a macaw, he sends it out toward the edge of the streams where they drop into the water, searching for anything and everything that may be a marker of home.
And he waits.
he wins every time i find myself inside, alone all night
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.
