they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes
he's a demon, with a crown of blood
She snaps again, and this time he does roll his eyes. But he doesn’t comment on it, knowing the difference. But she doesn’t understand his reasoning. To her they’re excuses, but to him it’s an entirely different game. Had she always misunderstood? Had he just simply gone with it to avoid the frustrations of where this conversation was leading.
He turns to her, offering a cruel smile while he edges nearer to her as she spits out her vision of the story to him — not excuses, on his end, but surprise and demanding some form of explanation. She tells him he’s been loyal to himself and even that's not true. The amount of times he’s considered drowning in the flood waters, jumping from the highest rooftop, all of it proves he’s not as loyal as he would likely have been to himself.
But he had been loyal to Lusea. He hadn’t even shared a bed with someone else until a year after she’d died. “It’s way more complicated than you’re making it out to be.” He hisses. “What was I supposed to do? I was already compromised by joining the resistance and fighting for them. And if I had left, then all of them would’ve died. Not just her.” He snaps back to her. “And for me? I would’ve still had to go back and pretend that everything was fucking okay? That I didn’t get hundreds of people killed?”
But she tells him he’s normal and he laughs, because the only time he’s ever felt normal was back before everything happened. Before he’d been made to be a murderer. But he has no time to comment on that when she adds a final barb and he approaches her further, in her space with cold steel eyes that look down to her own. “You didn’t even give me a chance. I looked to you after, and you were gone before appearing and saying she could have me and left for the infirmary. You left me.” He reiterates, teeth clacking with the blighted fire that’s started in his gut.
But she tells him what was in it, feigning he wouldn’t know, and while he doesn’t he knows people who do. That’s all he needs. But she claims that if he threatens her that she has powerful friends, and he laughs once more — cold, dark, stormy. “Threatening you?” He questions with a tilt to his head, decidedly a small amount predatory. “I don’t think you know what that means.” He quips back to her, a reiteration of her own words. Then, his eyes drift to her neck and he spots the marks he’s left before he shakes his head and looks away from her, still in her space.
“So, what? Is this some form of revenge for what I did to you? What you did to me?” His voice is softer now, the blight drifting back down. “Do you enjoy being my weakness?”
He turns to her, offering a cruel smile while he edges nearer to her as she spits out her vision of the story to him — not excuses, on his end, but surprise and demanding some form of explanation. She tells him he’s been loyal to himself and even that's not true. The amount of times he’s considered drowning in the flood waters, jumping from the highest rooftop, all of it proves he’s not as loyal as he would likely have been to himself.
But he had been loyal to Lusea. He hadn’t even shared a bed with someone else until a year after she’d died. “It’s way more complicated than you’re making it out to be.” He hisses. “What was I supposed to do? I was already compromised by joining the resistance and fighting for them. And if I had left, then all of them would’ve died. Not just her.” He snaps back to her. “And for me? I would’ve still had to go back and pretend that everything was fucking okay? That I didn’t get hundreds of people killed?”
But she tells him he’s normal and he laughs, because the only time he’s ever felt normal was back before everything happened. Before he’d been made to be a murderer. But he has no time to comment on that when she adds a final barb and he approaches her further, in her space with cold steel eyes that look down to her own. “You didn’t even give me a chance. I looked to you after, and you were gone before appearing and saying she could have me and left for the infirmary. You left me.” He reiterates, teeth clacking with the blighted fire that’s started in his gut.
But she tells him what was in it, feigning he wouldn’t know, and while he doesn’t he knows people who do. That’s all he needs. But she claims that if he threatens her that she has powerful friends, and he laughs once more — cold, dark, stormy. “Threatening you?” He questions with a tilt to his head, decidedly a small amount predatory. “I don’t think you know what that means.” He quips back to her, a reiteration of her own words. Then, his eyes drift to her neck and he spots the marks he’s left before he shakes his head and looks away from her, still in her space.
“So, what? Is this some form of revenge for what I did to you? What you did to me?” His voice is softer now, the blight drifting back down. “Do you enjoy being my weakness?”
does it look like he's still under your control?
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.
