when the world turns upside down, you should blame it on me
What does he mean they don’t know how? Because they don’t, and with the Voice around, why does it matter to even try? As for trusting Safrin, well, she’s never given him a reason not to personally. Others, sure, but she has saved him and made him what he is. And he trusts that. So he answers a bit differently, swallowed hard, the plates on his neck shifting with the movement. “Because I can’t lose him.” He murmurs, keeping his distance from her inferno as Haai slips toward him and places herself right up against his legs, a low whine slipping from her throat.
And he watches Melita, listens to her rampage, flinches slightly as it continues (imperceptibly, flinching with a blink here and there) before he’s shaking his head suddenly. “I’m working with him, Melita.” He snaps. He doesn’t know why it’s always about him, but he does know that he can’t sit there and let her pummel him into the ground. He does that well enough on his own. “My father and the things that he did isn’t my fault. What would you have done? You weren’t losing your mind and being drugged and not knowing what was real and what wasn’t!” What had happened with his father was all sorts of confusing and horrible, but it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t anticipate the mob getting to the house, he couldn’t anticipate just how much better his father had become with his fighting.
And she continues on and he barks out a hollow laugh, the scales growing longer and covering more of him. “No. There’s no forgiving this one. The mess is mine, whether you believe it or not.” And his alone to fix. But he can’t stop the clench to his jaw, the way he takes a sharp inhale. “But don’t you dare fucking think that I don’t know how big of a grave I dug myself.”
And he watches Melita, listens to her rampage, flinches slightly as it continues (imperceptibly, flinching with a blink here and there) before he’s shaking his head suddenly. “I’m working with him, Melita.” He snaps. He doesn’t know why it’s always about him, but he does know that he can’t sit there and let her pummel him into the ground. He does that well enough on his own. “My father and the things that he did isn’t my fault. What would you have done? You weren’t losing your mind and being drugged and not knowing what was real and what wasn’t!” What had happened with his father was all sorts of confusing and horrible, but it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t anticipate the mob getting to the house, he couldn’t anticipate just how much better his father had become with his fighting.
And she continues on and he barks out a hollow laugh, the scales growing longer and covering more of him. “No. There’s no forgiving this one. The mess is mine, whether you believe it or not.” And his alone to fix. But he can’t stop the clench to his jaw, the way he takes a sharp inhale. “But don’t you dare fucking think that I don’t know how big of a grave I dug myself.”
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.
