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
“No.” He admits softly, running a hand through his dark hair with a light sigh. He won’t fight for her. Because even if he does, even if he’s successful with it, he’s certain he’ll go and fuck it up some other way later. Regardless of how difficult it is, he knows it in his bones that she, herself, is too good for the darkness that sits within him. And she could try all she might to clean the stain left behind, but it would always remain.
“Most people don’t need a one and only.” He tells her, because despite having the one and only he thought he did, he’s here with the midwife rather than the one. So what did that say about the truth to that statement? There would always be difficulties, always be struggles. And with him, his blight and alcohol, the changes to his person, he’s not sure he’ll ever recover.
But she snaps at him and a dark brow raises in the surprising quiet environment they find themselves in. “So why let me, then? If it hurts too much. You aren’t the only one.” A rough admittance while he tears his gaze from her again. He wonders if he should tell her more, but the thought drifts from his mind, trying to figure out where he can go to clear his mind, where there’s warmth as opposed to the snow outside. And without saying anything to her, he brushes past her just enough to step inside and start gathering his things — tugging the shirt on first over the soon to be scars from her and the ones from Korofi.
“Most people don’t need a one and only.” He tells her, because despite having the one and only he thought he did, he’s here with the midwife rather than the one. So what did that say about the truth to that statement? There would always be difficulties, always be struggles. And with him, his blight and alcohol, the changes to his person, he’s not sure he’ll ever recover.
But she snaps at him and a dark brow raises in the surprising quiet environment they find themselves in. “So why let me, then? If it hurts too much. You aren’t the only one.” A rough admittance while he tears his gaze from her again. He wonders if he should tell her more, but the thought drifts from his mind, trying to figure out where he can go to clear his mind, where there’s warmth as opposed to the snow outside. And without saying anything to her, he brushes past her just enough to step inside and start gathering his things — tugging the shirt on first over the soon to be scars from her and the ones from Korofi.
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.
