oh, i've been low, but damnit i bet it don't show // it was heaven a moment ago
There’s rage. And then there’s sorrow.
And then there’s this unison of the two that causes despair and torments him again and again, the paranoia only growing tenfold, the distinct memory of his father pouring over and over the security tapes of the Grounds in order to make sure everything had gone according to how he’d planned and the shame and upset that comes with wondering if… Maybe, just maybe, his father had been right in that aspect.
You can’t be surprised if you can see everything coming. If you know what to expect.
But for now, he’s too late to prevent what’s already occurred. It leaves a yawning, gaping chasm in him that’s painful in such a way that he can’t stop prodding at. And gods, does Sunjata prod it.
Homecoming feels different this time, now that he has the ruined pieces of Lusea’s lantern in his hands, now that he knows that Kamaria is safe and the house is safe and what had happened hadn’t extended. Perhaps he owes Aurelia something for nearly dying and perhaps preventing anything else from happening.
It’s all these thoughts that buzz in the back of his mind, slipping through the door and locking it behind him swiftly as if it were second nature. The inside of the house has a reddish orange glow from the sunset outside, despite the curtains that block most of the light. Part of it reminds him of fire, another part of it reminds him of blood.
He can’t tell if the iron on his tongue is just a memory or reality.
His shoulders slump, his dragon plates slowly shifting away from his skin into feathers, into his more timid shifts, slipping further into the home, checking on Kamaria and finding that she’s doing fine. At least that makes one of them. But it’s Nate he seeks out, heading for the bedroom, imagining that if he hasn’t found him by now, perhaps he’s in there.
There’s the half covered porch on the other end of their room, and that’s where he finds Nate, making no motions of saying anything other than a quiet Skatjie… when he sets the lantern on the table beside the ashtray, immediately moving on to wrap his arms tightly around his husband, to bury himself into the demigod and pretend that he can be just as small as he feels.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to fall apart when the only person you trust is strong enough to hold you together.
And then there’s this unison of the two that causes despair and torments him again and again, the paranoia only growing tenfold, the distinct memory of his father pouring over and over the security tapes of the Grounds in order to make sure everything had gone according to how he’d planned and the shame and upset that comes with wondering if… Maybe, just maybe, his father had been right in that aspect.
You can’t be surprised if you can see everything coming. If you know what to expect.
But for now, he’s too late to prevent what’s already occurred. It leaves a yawning, gaping chasm in him that’s painful in such a way that he can’t stop prodding at. And gods, does Sunjata prod it.
Homecoming feels different this time, now that he has the ruined pieces of Lusea’s lantern in his hands, now that he knows that Kamaria is safe and the house is safe and what had happened hadn’t extended. Perhaps he owes Aurelia something for nearly dying and perhaps preventing anything else from happening.
It’s all these thoughts that buzz in the back of his mind, slipping through the door and locking it behind him swiftly as if it were second nature. The inside of the house has a reddish orange glow from the sunset outside, despite the curtains that block most of the light. Part of it reminds him of fire, another part of it reminds him of blood.
He can’t tell if the iron on his tongue is just a memory or reality.
His shoulders slump, his dragon plates slowly shifting away from his skin into feathers, into his more timid shifts, slipping further into the home, checking on Kamaria and finding that she’s doing fine. At least that makes one of them. But it’s Nate he seeks out, heading for the bedroom, imagining that if he hasn’t found him by now, perhaps he’s in there.
There’s the half covered porch on the other end of their room, and that’s where he finds Nate, making no motions of saying anything other than a quiet Skatjie… when he sets the lantern on the table beside the ashtray, immediately moving on to wrap his arms tightly around his husband, to bury himself into the demigod and pretend that he can be just as small as he feels.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to fall apart when the only person you trust is strong enough to hold you together.
i had it, almost // we had it almost
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.
