danger to myself
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Online
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Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#15
SuNJATA
the flood
He nods enough, that the comfort that comes with knowing that there are many worlds out there, many different versions, one where Lusea might be able to live that life that he had wanted for her. A place that was better, far less dangerous. Perhaps she’s right. And he breathes a bit deeply, inhales and lets the capacity fill his lungs until they almost ache, until he exhales quietly and offers a small nod. She continues on, however, and he resonates with it. That… Perhaps he had been selfish in wishing to be there, that no matter how much he had wanted it to be him, that it wouldn’t be. It never would be. At least in this way it had happened, she had spoken to him through Delphia, words and thoughts of which he couldn’t deny. She’d been there, fiery as ever, if only ghostly and spiritual.

At the mention of it, at the recalled thoughts, he pours his glass a bit more and pours some more into her own, and takes a deep drink of it, letting the feelings and thoughts resonate deeply into his soul, into his mind, into the pillars that made him him. And from there? He asks of her reign, of her beloved, of her children. And despite how much of a mess he knows he is, he doesn’t expect it to tear and rip open her wounds the way he does. He feels terrible for having asked, the moment that she offers a weak laugh, wondering which part he had misstepped at. But he gives her his full attention like she had done for him, offering a small weak smile in response to her initial comment of her reign.

It begins with Ashamin, a name foreign to him as many were. An introspective man, a softness, and yet where he stands he thinks that she does deserve certain softness to rival her edges. He doesn’t dare voice it, he doesn’t know her well enough, but there’s the thin line between the alcohol and heartbreak they share, the moments spent as two lonely people who’ve lost everything dear to them. He pushes it to the back of his mind as she continues on. How he had loved before, how children had been birthed with them, how he never stayed. Sunjata nods as she tells him the name of the children, not ringing a bell either, but twins? Gods.

Her voice breaks, and he reaches out momentarily to offer support – a crumbling pillar to her own crumbling architecture. And how terrible it was, to watch a daughter die, to bleed out – likely how he had watched Lusea’s death, the last moments. But she rages on, a storm amid the terrible things she’d lived through. How Ashamin had left, how she’d moved on and loved her children, and part of him yearns for her. He never wanted children, never wanted to see if he could provide stability. But there’s a part of him that imagines he’d never end up like Ashamin, that he’d never just leave. He’d told Phoebe that over and over again. That if it happened, he’d be there. Regardless.

But talk of Thranduil recaptures his attention, face attentive but stone, like steel, the way his eyes follow her face. A thorn in her side – he pegs himself like that, but to a lesser degree. He’d never consider her his enemy. But that… That spot where she says he’d refused to say that he loved her, that Sunjata has done before. And he can’t truly dare to look at her anymore as he focuses on the glass in front of him, thinking of Phoebe briefly before Lusea’s arrival, about how he couldn’t say the words because it brought back the thought of his flame, his Vlam, how it never quite seemed right.

But he hadn’t berated her, had he? He inhales deeply, refocusing while she does too. He’d never mock something like that, and it manages to start a small burning frustration within him. She had forsaken her crown, had started a family, things he had wished to do with Lusea perhaps in a different life. And then she’d had twins again, returning to the land to continue the cycle of birthing them where it had all started, and he nods enough to her with that. “Helovia?” He comments quietly, recalling Melita’s own frustrations at it.

His gaze snaps to her face when she tells him that Ru’in had died, had walked into the first wave of death. And perhaps it was worse, the thought of it all, to have to watch as your child walked into the arms of death willingly rather than what had happened to Sunjata and his family, those he loved and cherished that had perished beneath the actions of his father. And gods, how he understood her. How he understood the need to avenge, to die with, and to be ripped of that small mercy, well… It was terrible. “I fought against the guards that held me when Lusea died the first time. I would’ve died with her the first time, but they hadn’t let me either.” He rumbles quietly to her. Not to take away, but to show his support, that he had thought and tried the same.

That the two of them were much the same.

And perhaps he was lucky to not have to dive through world upon world, how he had moved to Dorobo and simultaneously ended here, well. She had traveled and traveled under vengeance and justice, and found pieces of her family here. And hadn’t that happened to him? Before it had been taken? It seems she, too, understood that. The son, Ru’in, having perished before she’d arrived, and he frowns deeply to her, steel eyes meeting her as her voice wobbles and breaks, and he stands to go sit beside her, to stare into the flames of the fire with a huff a sigh.

It seems you and I are much the same.” A sad admittance, a sad smile crossing his face. He lets a few heartbeats pause before he decides perhaps, that since he now has a full understanding of her history, while he’d only given bits and pieces, that she should hear the parts that made it all the more different for him, how Lusea had meant so much, how she’d changed his life. He drinks deeply from the glass before focusing on her at his side. “You’ve dealt with so much more, and you’ve held it together far better than I have. How’d you craft the mask so well?” A gentle teasing, like she had done for him, bitter truth and honesty lingering in the pulses of his accent.

My father, back in Korofi, was called the Arbiter. He was essentially the king of our county. They were all separated by what we could contribute to the most. The Senzaok house was the one that wrote the laws, enacted justice, were the juries and the executioners.” He rumbles by way of explanation. “Families were allowed to have one son and one daughter. And growing up required a lot of training. When the son reached seventeen, they were… Tossed into a pit and forced to fight to the death, and whoever was left standing had a chance at becoming the new Arbiter when the current one died.” His steel gaze drifts over to her, an open wound of his own. “I won mine. But I hated every inch of it, wanted nothing to do with it. And my Father was so proud, that his son could’ve done something so much like himself. Be ruthless. Be a killer. I didn’t want to be one.” His jaw clenches slightly as he shakes his head, gaze drifting to the glass. “But they trained me anyway, taught me the ways required of being an Arbiter, made me a soldier and stuck me on the front lines to try and catch out the rebellion before it grew too much.

But then, he decides to tell her something he only told Lusea once. Perhaps it gives her a broader idea of his destructive tendencies, and that how despite this sad attempt, at least it wasn’t like it could have been before. “But I planned to take it down, somehow, by bits and pieces, but it was taking so long and I’m very impatient.” A soft, sad, breathy laugh at that. “So I thought maybe… If I wasn’t around anymore, that he’d have no star soldier to take out the rebellion. A monsoon was coming in so it was starting to rain badly, and I went to the top of one of the rooftops alone. I spent ten minutes on the edge of the building trying to talk myself into it when I saw someone leave a secret door, start a fight in the alley. And so then I decided that perhaps… Instead, I could join them. I left a note for my fellow soldiers telling them I had special orders from my father and to not look for me, and I attempted to join them. It took a while. Everyone knew who I was, saw my face around town after I’d won my trial. They didn’t trust me.” An echo of their earlier conversation. He still sighs heavily.

And after everything, after it all, years later when it had worked out… Lusea and I were on a rooftop, celebrating a recent win… When someone ratted out our location. We had been so close to hitting my father where it really hurt, and then we were surrounded. I had asked her that day that if we won, if we made it through it, we could go to Dorobo and start a new life – a right one. She had said yes, but we never got the chance. They surrounded us and the only option was to go with, or jump off the building.” Steel eyes slip over to hers, yet another echo of what he had almost attempted before. But her hand had been in his, and they had one foot over the side of the building, only to be dragged back up it and taken in handcuffs away to his childhood home.

They got us, in the end. Took us back to my home. Tortured her for weeks and made me watch. And then they drug us to my father’s foyer where the guards held me back and away from her, held her away from me. Lusea had been weak physically, but she was sharp as ever mentally, and she… Well, still defied my father until her last breath there.” A brief fleeting smile at that. “So he slit her neck. I raged against the guards, like I told you earlier, and I pushed against the guards holding me back with knives to my neck. I was ready to go with her there, to hold her until we both went, but they had pulled me weak from her after she’d left. Healed me, dragged me back to my father for him to tell me he’d arranged a marriage.

What shit lives they both had lead. “I guess the cards were never in our favor, huh?
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
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.
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 2,241 | Total: 6,168
MP: 9427
#16
HOTARU
Here, in the haven of their shared pain, the turmoil is less like a tsunami and more akin to choppy waters. Keeping each other afloat as they bleed the poison free of their veins, lest it consume them from the inside. She is both surprised and touched by his trust in her, the freedom of his voice and the memories he shares. He pours more alcohol for the both of them, and she obligingly sips at her own. Being out of control is not her manner of grief, of coping. It only worsens things for her personally. But this, too, is a shared act. A compromise. The liquid burns her throat, warming behind her breastbone in a way the fire cannot achieve. It helps her through the aching chill of her memories, the ice that stabs at her insides as she recalls every loss, every death, every heartbreak. She is no wordsmith, no laureate, can't put to words the depth and darkness of her grief, but she tries. If only to expel the darkness from her soul, to even the ground between them in terms of secrets and pasts shared.

And when she spirals, dragged down by the memories of Arya bleeding out into the snow, her own cursed helplessness, he is the preserver in the storm. His hand extends, and she grips to it as if he can pull her from the storm with the weight of his palm. Two broken things sharing their remaining pillars of strength, keeping one another from crumbling. His hand is calloused beneath hers, swallows the size of her own, and though Hotaru knows he's hurting she can't help but be relieved that right now he is her shelter. Her reminder that she is not there anymore, even if Arya is lost to her here she had lived from that day. She can't possibly scry his thoughts on children, on devotion, but his silence helps bear her aloft over the chasm of her darkest days.

The name of her land, her home, is the only word that breaks the initial silence. Lifting her gaze from where the firelight plays against glass and wood, she smiles weakly. "I see its legacy precedes it." Infamy would be more accurate. For all of the wonders and joys, it had hurt so many in the end that the disastrous end overshadowed all the previous good. And even in the early days there was so much loss. So much darkness. And she can see it in him when he speaks, quiet and measured, expressing a kinship to the day she had lost everything.

"I know now that living is what he would have wanted. But even in this moment, if I could have that vengeance, I would take it. As I'm sure you would as well." Hollow gaze seeks his out, squeezing his hand gently. Apologies, regrets, none of them will spare Sunjata or Hotaru from what has already happened. The burden of watching a loved one die and being unable to exact revenge, or to join them in the afterlife. His own words rise on a gentle tide behind hers, and she smiles back, chuckles softly at his bitter compliment. "Many years of practice, and motherhood I suppose. You become very, very good at hiding dark things from children." Not something he is likely to understand firsthand without progeny of his own, but a universal truth for many. That children did not deserve to be subjected to such horrors, to seeing their parents fall apart.

And again comes his history, in greater depth, and the tables turn once more. Hotaru listens just as attentively, appreciating the time it allows her to settle her emotions and bury the memories a little deeper after bringing them to light for the first time in years. Even as she aches in turn for him as he spins his childhood out before her, the rawness of his expression softening her own as she gently runs her fingertips over his wrist. A silent communication. I'm here, you can hang onto me. We will pull each other through this.

Even before he confirms it, she knows he was the one who came out triumphant, who sacrificed it all - humanity included - just for the sake of survival. His continued presence before her is proof enough of that. But she doesn't let her expression change at all, because this revelation in no way changes his esteem in her eyes. His desire to undermine it all, to turn the tides, is what makes him the man he is. Though his duplicitous nature is questionable considering how endearingly obvious he'd been to Lusea and her father, it doesn't prompt a smile. Not when it's followed by such a close-hitting topic of contemplating ending his own life. And she knows then, that she will have to tell her own tale. Because she can't simply let him think he is the only one to have felt that moment of weakness. Can't bear to keep that truth from him if it means he isn't alone.

But not now. Now, she listens. Soaks in the details of his turn against his father's forces, of coming to Lusea's side, and the devastating end to their doomed romance. An ending only made further bitter with Lusea's untimely end here in Caido. Lifting her free hand, she hesitates to translate her attempted motion, and touches the very end of the scar on his neck. Eyes soft, touch gentle before she withdraws. "It doesn't mean we can't pick up a new hand," she murmurs. "I'm no optimist, but like I said, there are so many worlds out there. Second, third, fourth chances. I'd rather try to be happy, to live rebelliously, to rage against fate and her cruelty than die meek and miserable." Here there is the ember, the one that keeps her moving, the one that forces her back from the ledge they'd both stood upon when she gazes down and sees nothing but air.

"If I'm bold enough to say so, Lusea would say the same thing. She knew what rebelling would earn her in that moment, and did so anyway. She died true to herself. One of the few meaningful things we can do in the face of the reaper." Sighing, she withdraws her hand from his to grab her glass, sips slowly and robotically as she considers her own childhood. "It doesn't make her loss easier, then or now. But I think she - much like my own family - would sooner kick your ass for grieving forever instead of honoring her memory and trying to be happy in spite of her loss. No matter how long it takes or how many times you have to try." Because grief of that magnitude is an ongoing process. One that has no real end game or goal. But the waves slow, decrease in size, even if the tide never really stops.

"My parents were forbidden to be together, because of their races. It didn't stop them, but it meant that I never really met my father. My mother raised my twin sister and I in a small band of assassins, thieves, mercenaries...Raeden, my sister, was beautiful. Radiant. Confident. And I was...well, not." Here she laughs bitterly, recalling how she had once been, how very different she'd been as a young girl before the world had torn her apart. "I stood on that same ledge twice in my life. When I first left that little band, I had nowhere to go. My mother barely gave me a second look, dismissed me in front of everyone. I fled with my first friend, the first to ever see me and find me beautiful. But I was no more than a child, and he wanted children, wanted to keep me wholly to himself." Despite all she has told him, she can't bear to say his name. The true monster of her nightmares, the one that haunts her forevermore. Her arms come to wrap around herself. "When I denied him, he disappeared. But he returned years later, completely changed. Psychotic, sadistic, demented...he kidnapped me, tortured and raped me for weeks. Saying that I was a temptress, a whore, that I deserved that kind of love from him." Gritting her teeth she forcibly lowers her arms, refuses to display her weakness even here. Not with this, not when the memory of his breath on her neck, his teeth in her throat, seems to whisper at her from the flickering shadows.

"In my darkest moment I nearly killed myself. Anything to beat him, to take away the one thing he wanted. To end my own suffering. It was selfish. I still had my children at home, my kingdom, my people...and yet all I could think was how I had never truly changed from that little girl he'd stolen away. Still just as weak and foolish. Living a lie, a charade of confidence and power." A single tear drips off her lashes to kiss her cheek, and she rubs it away with a scowl. What a ridiculous thing to cry about after everything she has shared. Her own insecurities about her self-worth. "Thranduil saved me that night, before I could do it. But when he arrived, the first thing he said was that I looked terrible. That it wouldn't do at all. And for a moment, even with freedom there in front of me, I regretted not doing it." She attempts to laugh, but it comes out broken, and she cuts it off immediately.

"The second time was when I didn't make it through the portal with my family. When I landed alone and lost in a completely different place. After weeks of searching, I held a dagger to my throat," here she lifts a hand, presses her middle finger to the soft indent between her collarbones, gaze distant as she recalls the tip of the blade kissing her skin. After a long moment frozen, her fingers fall away. "I couldn't do it then either. I'm glad that I didn't, that I found my family here, what remains of it. Sometimes it hurts so bad that I can scarcely get out of bed, when I remember these things." Finally Hotaru reaches across the table, reconnects, brushes her fingers against his knuckles.

"We only get so much time. So many chances. Lusea got more time with you than she would have in the beginning, and that means something. Her loss doesn't erase those days. It hurts like hell, but you know what we have to do?" Her eyes lift to meet his, hand gripping his palm. "We have to get up. Out of that bed. If not for ourselves, then for them, whether they're here looking over us or earning their second chance somewhere we can't reach." It is what she would have wanted for Ru'in, for Arya, for Romina, for Casca and even Thranduil. That if they lost her, they would continue on, would find joy and peace. That Thranduil would love again even after the hurt she had inflicted with her loss. And if she wanted that for them, she tries to think that they would want the same for her in return.
I am a breathtaking mosaic
of all the battles I've won

Table Code by Sky!
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Online
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#17
SuNJATA
the flood
I have heard of it from another that lived there.” He offers to Hotaru, smiling weakly. Again, unknown to him that he had been there as well, once upon a time, right before the fall and everything else happened. But still, he finds himself remaining quiet again, letting her continue on with her own story, her own trials and tribulations she’s lived through. The comment of vengeance, of taking revenge, partially glazes his eyes as he nods. “I would.” It made them far more similar in that regard, but where Sunjata was from it was expected of him to judge, to execute if he saw fit.

That’s how it was.

His gaze lingers on the soft panes of her face after he gives her a bitter compliment, smile faltering slightly as she speaks of motherhood. “Well, I wouldn’t know about that, but my mother was great at it.” He frowns slightly before he shakes his head, how much makeup she had worn, how it had been likely her artists that came to cover his own bruises from his father, but ah. Another life, another time, and gods how he hoped that bastard was dead.

Still, he gives her a bit deeper understanding of his history, steel eyes flickering back to her face as she strokes the inside of his wrist, how they both were messes held together with tape and glue, trying so desperately to put it back together the right way so the seams would fit, when they wouldn’t. They never would. And despite the fact they knew this, they still tried anyway, because that’s what you did in the end, wasn’t it? Keep trying and hope for a different result?

As he finishes his story, pausing before any continuation of the wrath Lusea’s father had given, the wrath of the people of Korofi and his house, how he had left with Saartjie and went to Dorobo; he stills as she touches the end of the scar, briefly, before withdrawing – with far more gentleness than he had experienced when they’d shared a bed. Still, his steel eyes linger on her face as she comments that she’s no optimist, and he snorts. He can see the fire, see it within himself despite his self-destructive tendencies.

And she’s correct in her assumption that Lusea would say the same, the corners of his lips curling in that of an almost sad smile. “For having not met her, you sound a lot like her.” An offhand compliment of sorts – of strong women doing the best they can in the terrible situations they’ve been granted. And he admires it immensely, even as she lets her hand leave his to grab her glass and he does the same, sipping from it, nodding in agreement.

His attention returns to her, listening to her dive deeper into her own history, too. His fingers twitching lightly against the glass as she comments that Raeden had been beautiful, radiant, confident, when in reality that’s all he could see from Hotaru. He finds it hard to believe, but doesn’t comment on it, instead just understands. And he understands far deeper when she talks of the ledge they had stepped on, the contemplation and thoughts that left them, and he can’t help the clench to his jaw. He clenches it further as she wraps in on herself, reaching his own arm out to her to pull her close, into his warmth should she want it.

But then he falters at the reasons, gaze leaving her to look at the fire as she explains the deeper hidden bits, and he finds that perhaps his own reasoning was quite small in comparison, in the end. But he doesn’t confess it, not while she tells her story, and when she gets to Thranduil, and what the man had said coming across a scene such at that, he can’t help but to grit his teeth to that sort of response. He wonders if the man was similar to his father in the soullessness that accompanied words like that. And even her broken laugh breaks him internally, too, despite her attempt to cut it off.

He understands, to an extent.

And then she tells him of the second time she’d almost done it – alone, lost. But that she’s glad she hadn’t done it in the end, and he can understand that, too. That he had found Lusea the first time, and the second time it had been with her hand in his for an eternal martyrdom. None had come to pass. But there was another time, far more recent, and he chews on the inside of his cheek. “I almost did it here, too, when I had the blight.” He offers quietly, pausing as she reaches across the table and brushes her fingers against his knuckles, gaze drifting from the fire back to her face.

Then she grips his palm, and his dark brow raises slightly in silent response to her, steel eyes meeting her dual toned ones, the edge of a smile finding its way to his lips, and he sighs somewhat heavily as he nods to her. “I suppose you’re right.” He rumbles, eyes dropping from her face to the table between them. “She used to tell me that if I were to die, she’d be the one to end me. So here’s to immortality, in this world or the next.” It’s a feigned attempt at a joke as he lifts his glass to tap it lightly against her own, the faint sound of a toast hitting the world around them.

I’m going to miss her yelling at me to not go soft again.” There’s a slight amusement at that before he manages to lift his gaze to hers, some sort of edge of fierceness hidden beneath them, the predatory attempts of the panther trying to escape. “Also, if more of your family arrives… Especially this Thranduil, let me know.” There’s a slight tilt to his head. A hidden underlining to his words that he wants to talk to this man, perhaps to shake him and ask him what the fuck is wrong with him.

But for now, they’re left by themselves. To their own devices. Picking up the pieces again and again and gluing them back together.
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
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.
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,241 | Total: 6,168
MP: 9427
#18
HOTARU
There is a kinship between them deeper than any surface attraction or manipulative tendencies they may have had. A banked fire that keeps fueling every movement, even when encroaching chill and devastation threaten every flickering beat of their hearts. A stubbornness that keeps them living when there is seemingly no reason to. And she knows he stands there, face to face with the void as it pours itself into him, striking light from his soul with greedy fingertips and a hunger that takes and takes and takes. She won't let it take him. She digs her nails into that light, that tremulous flame, and drags it to the surface. Buoys it high above the water where he drowns in his own flood, if only to give him enough time to spark anew. To fight again. Bathed in the warmth and dancing light of her fireplace, holding onto one another through the torrential river of memories they wade through, she sees him clearer than ever before. A frosted glass wiped clean. It enables her the energy and strength to smile, sincerely complimented by the comparison he draws between her and Lusea. "Quite the compliment, I'd say. I regret not being able to meet her." But her memories live on through Sunjata, and Hotaru basks in them as much as she can, reaching for the ghost of the girl that sits between them, a hand on each burdened shoulder. Tying them together with her lingering memory.

Reopening her own wounds seems minor in comparison. When he reaches for her, she lets him pull her in, dragging her from the darkness and the monster that forever lingers within its depths. Chasing it away with the warmth of his skin, the pressure of his touch. Keeping her grounded and connected to the present. He doesn't speak, and for that she is grateful. There is nothing to say, no words to soothe the ache she will carry with her forever. His own confession is enough. A way to bridge the gap, an understanding that she clings to. "And yet we're both still here." Some days she is immeasurably grateful for that fact. Others...well, they've already spoken of that.

A wry smile twists her lips, weary, but she lifts her glass to touch against his. The sound is loud in her ears, but it lays to rest her past, back into the grave where it belongs. "To immortality." Though she wonders if that's what she would want for herself. Perhaps if her memories did not transfer, she would. But the idea of an end, a resting place, somewhere she can see her lost family again...it's definitely appealing. A difficult decision she is almost grateful to have taken from her hands. "I don't think you'll ever forget her voice saying that, I'm sure she repeated it often enough." Though many things fade with time, there are some that remain with striking clarity; Phaedra's opulent smile, Raeden's sincere laughter, Ru'in's quiet grunts. She carries them with her, cherishes their continued survival in her memory. Wipes free the dust whenever time tries to reclaim it.

There's a soft threat to his words, and she laughs softly, surprised to find herself shy beneath such fervor. "I fear for him if he does arrive here, truly. But I would certainly pass on the message." Deimos would have to find out first of course - the man likely has more than a few bones to pick himself. But knowing Sunjata is in her corner, there to chase away the demons more thoroughly than Thranduil ever had, eases an enormous weight from her shoulders that she had forgotten was even there. In the wake of such lightness, she even manages a smile. "I have to admit I didn't expect my night to end up this way, but...I'm glad you felt you could come here." An unspoken message that he will always be welcome if he so chooses to seek her out again.
I am a breathtaking mosaic
of all the battles I've won

Table Code by Sky!
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Online
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#19
SuNJATA
the flood
There’s a brief, almost sad chuckle that leaves him at her comment. And he nods, head tilting slightly as he thinks on it, a moment of thought that wants to erupt though he’s uncertain if he should. After a moment, he realizes he’s told her quite a bit more than he ever thought he would – likewise she had done the same. And so he nods once more, that crooked sad smile crossing his face again as he fiddles with the glass. “Yeah, well. I’m sure she’d simply just enjoy me spending my time with someone like you rather than the company I kept before she arrived.” His gaze lifts to hers, a pause as he recalls how Lusea had told him time and time again that Phoebe had made him soft.

He doesn’t dwell on it for long, not as they confess some of the deepest, darker thoughts they’d shared, and her comment of how they were both here garners yet another nod from him as he touches her hand – the pressure of his thumb drifting along her palm. “And yet.” He supplies simply. Both breathing. Both there. Both alive. They’d made it out even if they drifted to those darker thoughts time and time again. They’d always won.

His glass bumps briefly against hers in their small, saddened toast, to different worlds and lives lived separately, hopefully better. But he still manages yet another almost saddened hint of a chuckle at her comment. His hand leaves hers to run through his dark hair before he applies some pressure to his temple as he shakes his head. “Mmm, she did. Too much. She also repeated it through Mort’s daughter when I found out she’d died.” He rumbles almost thoughtfully, shaking his head again with a snort.

But regardless, he gives her a more straight forward, honest look, telling her to tell him if Thranduil ever finds his way onto these shores, through these portals. And he’s surprised to be able to see a small amount of the shyness from her at the slight growl of a threat beneath his words, but he covers it with a slight smirk. It didn’t matter if he saw him first or last, all that mattered was that if the man was here somewhere, Sunjata would find him.

Possibly end him, hard to say.

Still, Hotaru manages a smile and Sunjata’s head inclines to her slightly at her underlying message. “Nor did I. Though… It was either here or spending the hundredth night alone in the bar, drunk and making terrible mistakes.” He rumbles with a slight shake of his head. Another reference to one of their prior conversations. He’d chosen her tonight.
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
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.
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,241 | Total: 6,168
MP: 9427
#20
HOTARU
A fine golden brow rises curiously at the way he words Lusea's proposed thoughts. Whether he intends for it to be leading or not, she takes the bait, shuffling closer to the table until the edge presses into her skin. "You don't seem the type to be picky with partners, but I sense something more to that. Who were you seeing previously?" She is more straightforward when she asks, not wanting it to come off as too teasing with her prior comment. There is something dark there, curling and mired beneath seaglass, a shade that exists in his eyes. One she wants to know, to hear the truth of, to lift him out of the depths of his tainted past.

His thumb traces along her palm, and she returns the gentle touch, letting the silence wrap around them comfortably. Nothing but the crackle of the logs in the fireplace and the steady cadence of their breathing to occupy the space between them. Grateful that they're both alive, grateful that the other is alive. Hotaru is grateful to have met him, to have gotten her own second chance, and the feeling lingers between them before he speaks once more. "Then she knows how you feel, was able to give her own goodbye. It's more than we have gotten in the past." Though she already feels the sharp ache, the desire to run and find this daughter of Mort, to speak to Ru'in one last time. She clings to his hand to prevent herself from doing it foolishly, but at least she understands. At least Lusea had been able to say goodbye from beyond the grave.

Hotaru gives a pointed look at the glasses between them when he mentions the bar. "I wouldn't say you're drunk, but you're certainly not missing out." She squeezes his hand, wondering if they'll ever fully let go of each other through the course of the night. She's not bothered by the idea of not. "You can always come here, even if you don't want to talk. But don't expect me to be mushy all the time, I have an image to uphold." A lie, because she would do it any time he asked, but he doesn't need to know that.
I am a breathtaking mosaic
of all the battles I've won

Table Code by Sky!
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Online
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#21
SuNJATA
the flood
She shuffles nearer to the table, and his head tilts slightly to regard her a bit better – silver eyes shadowed yet light, as though her presence is simply chasing them away, slowly but surely. He still manages a soft chuckle at the comment before he shrugs lightly, reaching for the glass briefly to finish the rest of what was in it. “I was with Phoebe, the midwife, for a couple of seasons. And right after I had started to open up to her about who Lusea was, she comes home with someone that needed a place to stay.” His eyes flit up to meet her dual toned ones. “I rounded the corner of the house to ask if I should prepare something, when she was there.” It’s clear he means Lusea, not Phoebe in this instance. “It took some explaining to tell Lusea it had been years and not days since she’d died, if only for an effort of her to not tear out Phoebe’s throat. And Phoebe ended up just grabbing her things and leaving, stating she was going to go somewhere else since Lusea was here.” Shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.

Phoebe had the blight during that time, and I left… Obviously, because Lusea was there with me again. But I went back to try and plant flowers, roses for her. Because I cared, you know?” His gaze drifts away from her then with a slight tilt to his head. “I helped her try to figure out the blight for so many months. I think that’s how I got it too.” A small frown before he shakes his head, trying to tear those thoughts away as his hand reaches for her, the gentle touch. The conversation shifts and his gaze returns back to her, letting his hand linger in hers.

He doesn’t know what to say to that, but he nods. Understanding. He’d not gotten the chance to before, surprised he had now. Eternally grateful for that small mercy in itself.

But then, she gives him a pointed look, and he brazenly stares back at her, squeezing her hand back at her comment that elicits a slight smirk from the corner of his lip. “Oh? An image?” He rumbles to her, aiming to tug on her hand to pull her closer, the scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol drifting from him like tendrils into the night. “I quite like this mushy side of you.” He teases her gently, though he doesn’t mean anything he says.
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
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.
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,241 | Total: 6,168
MP: 9427
#22
HOTARU
The name is familiar, and her lips purse at the recent memory of meeting the young midwife. She keeps her thoughts to herself, listening instead to the tale he weaves for her. It's not precisely negative, but something about it still bothers her. "That seems rather childish. I understand giving space for everyone to cool their heads, but...it just doesn't strike me right." It's half-mumbled, more contemplative, spoken aloud more for herself than any commentary to provide for him. "But it was good of you to try to help her. That alone should speak of how you honored the time you spent together." Not that she knows anything about the tumultuous times between them, Phoebe's reactions or accusations, Sunjata's indecisiveness. What she does know is what he tells her, and from there she can gather that while he understandably went back to Lusea, at least he had not forsaken Phoebe entirely.

He pulls on her hand, tugging her closer, and she laughs softly as she ends up half-drawn across the table towards him, free arm bracing against its surface. She doesn't want to distract from the healing they're both doing, but it's almost impossible to not engage him when he teases back, the smoky nature of his voice drawing her in as surely as any drug. "Yes, one I have carefully cultivated you know." The wry twist of her lips and glimmer of her eyes in the firelight reveals her sarcasm, though her tone remains perfectly untouched and seemingly sincere. "I'll have to reserve it for rare moments then, can't have you spoiled." A sly wink and she drags her nails lightly against the sensitive skin of his inner forearm to punctuate it. If it helps to distract him from darker thoughts, she will let him steer them into whichever kind of conversation he desires.
I am a breathtaking mosaic
of all the battles I've won

Table Code by Sky!
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Online
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#23
SuNJATA
the flood
Her comment isn’t particularly aimed anywhere, but there were many things that weren’t entirely right about the whole scenario. He’s just… Uncertain where to start. It had all seemed to stem from there, billowing and bubbling to becoming something more. And he can’t help but to work his jaw slightly. “I went to talk to her after, but.. It went nowhere. And then I started to get the blight when I was trying to help her, and she attacked me to try and get at the rose.” Subconsciously his free hand drifts to his shoulder where her bite scar remains. “I didn’t know how to get her to calm down, and I knew she was still heartbroken. I kissed her, trying to get her to stop. But it didn’t, made things worse. I eventually had to take her to Remi who locked her up in the prison.” The shadows in his eyes grow a bit darker, he avoids looking at her. “And I met you before the blight hit me rather hard, but it started to get worse and Lusea was off planting flowers, and I went back to see Phoebe to try and ask if she meant the things she said. People with the blight were getting better while I was getting worse. She said she still loved me, even if I couldn’t tell her it back. She told me that… That the soft person in me never died, that I hid behind layers of ice and scars and sarcasm, and I chased Lusea because she encouraged it, but it wasn’t love.” Another muscle feathers in his jaw before he exhales loudly. “That growing soft scared me, and that’s why I left. Why I chose Lusea in the end. Because Phoebe could ‘love the real me’.

I asked her if it were true, everything she’d said. And she had apologized, but there were parts that were true. She said that Lusea made me weak, she made me whole. That I was too scared to choose her.” Another brief shake of his head. “Anyway, stupid, blighted me, let her out of the prison. I brought her home while she begged me to pick her. I told her I couldn’t, but that I could try and help her. And she had claimed she wished Lusea remained dead.” Another shake of his head, uncertain why all the words were slipping from his lips but that they were. “But I helped her get cleaned up, ran her a shower, sat in the kitchen and drank and she gave me something for… Anxiety I guess she said it was. And eventually, I told her that I couldn’t be who she wanted. To father children for her, because she wanted to be a mother and I didn’t want to be a father.” A brief pause. “We did, before the blight, before Lusea, before everything, unknown to us until Frey told her.” Another sigh.

But she asked me to ground myself, and I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I chose her. That night. I stayed with her. I slept with her. While Lusea was out planting flowers for me, planning picnics, shit talking the snow.” He would have stopped if she’d let him. “I think at first it was some sort of revenge for breaking her heart. She knew she could have stopped me. Gods, you even know that." He admits, the deep impression of consent deep within his bones. "But... She thought I wouldn’t tell Lusea, but I did. In all my years –” He cuts himself off, a scoff of a laugh leaving him. “I’d been loyal to the core, and that one night I threw it all away. My flame, my heart thought she wasn’t enough.” Steel eyes flit to Hotaru’s face, some sort of deep bone pain deep within. “I don’t know what happened, but.” He trails off, enough to become grounded again as the conversation shifts and her fingers trace the sensitive part of his arm.

The ice and frustration melts at her comments, and he can’t help but let his other arm come around to move the table slightly out of the way so she may drift closer. “A shame.” Another brief moment of solace among the rough conversation, the choppy waters they steer. A shame that he can't be too spoiled, from the things he'd gone through.
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
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.
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,241 | Total: 6,168
MP: 9427
#24
HOTARU
The story unfolds in fits and starts, and she is proud of him for soldiering on through the hard parts. Parts that men would often conceal or shirk away from, ones that he shares freely. She holds tight to him, keeps him connected to her the entire time, and feels her heart break further with every breath and admittance. Rage curls in her belly, hot and tangled, and it is a difficult endeavor to keep it from broadcasting on her face. Even still she can't help the desire to storm out into the night and find Phoebe in her clinic, perhaps say - or do - something that someone with better morals than her would regret. Her age does not even register in the woman's mind, because anyone is capable of taking advantage of people, and as a victim herself she wishes the girl knew how to fight so that Hotaru would have the pleasure of a decent fight. This world is far too soft in comparison to Helovia. If they were there, Hotaru would have challenged the young woman immediately, taken her anger out in pounds of flesh and left a scar of her own upon the canvas of her skin to wear forever. A scarlet letter to advertise the cruelty she'd done to Sunjata.

When his voice tapers away, heartbroken and wavering, she lets him move the table and moves forward on her knees to wrap her arms around him gently. Not wanting to encroach directly on his personal space so soon after his confession. Holds him for a moment to still the rabbiting of her heart, the heat of rage that warms her face and makes her hands shake. "She is a foolish, terrible little girl, and if I see her again she will be lucky to escape unscathed from my hands," she vows, voice rumbling low and vengeful, the wolf in her reappearing in ways that would have made her hellhound proud. Pulling back, she gently cups each side of his neck, brushes her thumb against his jaw as she stares intently into his silvermist eyes. "You, and only you, are the one who determines if someone makes you weak or whole. She is not the captain of your emotions, and her greed and arrogance are appalling." It's hard not to spit the words, and she is only partially successful, even though she tries so damn hard not to succumb to her rage on his behalf. "You made mistakes, yes. You should not have kissed her, perhaps let more time linger between you before visiting her again. But she is even more to blame. You were both not in your right minds with the Blight, and the fact that she gave you anything like a tonic - even if only for anxiety, if you trust her word - that could have further lowered your inhibitions is sickeningly manipulative."

Taking a shaky breath she rubs a hand gently over her eyes, reeling in her emotions. "She should have stopped you. Revenge through rape is unacceptable, and that is frankly what it was. Even without the tonic, you were not in your right mind, and even coming out of the Blight her own judgment was questionable. Neither of you could consent." It makes her skin crawl, far too close to her own experience, the one she had just freshly shared with Sunjata. This is a kinship she had never wanted with him, if only to spare him from even a fraction of the experience. "You did the right thing telling Lusea. And I...Sunjata there are no words for how angry I am on your behalf, how sorry I am that this happened to you. She needs to move on, find someone who will give her the children, the love, that she wants. And I pray that she can refrain from being such a colossally horrendous, untrustworthy bitch if she finds them." Okay, perhaps a little violent in her word choice, but Hotaru is simply not a nice person. She has been an empress, a queen, a warrior and killer. She trembles slightly as he pulls her close, tilting her head to rest her forehead against the crook of his shoulder. "If there is anything I can do to help...to keep you away from her, if that's what you need, just tell me."
I am a breathtaking mosaic
of all the battles I've won

Table Code by Sky!
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Online
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#25
SuNJATA
the flood
The last thing he expects is the rage and heartbreak that crosses her from his story, and he clings to her just as much as she holds him, feeling the thundering heartbeat beneath her pulse that is stark and different from the calm uncertainty of his own. Her claim, her vow, takes him aback as he looks away from her then, only minimally as her hands reach for his neck, thumb against his jaw and his gaze finds hers again. “It happened awhile ago. Lusea and I made amends before she died.” Whether it meant sleeping with Loren to accomplish it, well, that was another story. Instead, he watches as she tries to cap off her rage, unsure of why she’s so upset, why she’s so fierce and protective over this.

He does not connect the dots.

Sure, it was manipulative, but he had been too. He had been manipulated his entire life in a sense that he couldn’t ever see the warning signs. He had a choice in it, he could have left, he could have done so many things. And yet, he didn’t. It was him, in the end, that had chosen the fate he’d had. But he remains silent while she rampages on, a warpath, rubbing a hand over her eye that he can’t help but to watch until her next comment stills him. “I…” He doesn’t understand, they both had been willing, but even still, pieces begin to fall into place slowly but surely, and he can’t figure out what to say, not while the ball drops into the pit of his stomach. He clenches his jaw as she continues on, uncertainty and a small amount of disbelief in his shadowed eyes.

Don’t be angry.” He says at first, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear, gaze flickering from his hand back to her eyes. “I brought it on myself by being unable to stay away.” He explains in the way that his mind works, in the way that he can’t quite push her away, how he always craves to have moments however fleeting they may be. “I made mistakes, it’s what I do.” Tattooed shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, thinking nothing of it. Thinking it’s one hundred percent his fault.

He’s able to pull her close at least, and he can feel her tremble as she presses her forehead against his shoulder as he wraps his arms around her to hold her near. “I’m afraid it’s impossible.” He offers with a deep rumble, accented and surprisingly honest. “I always end up around her one way or another. She could’ve mothered my child.” He sets his head back, looks up to the ceiling while his mind races with all the implications, though his heartbeat remains steady. "I feel like I owe it to her for the things I did."
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
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.
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,241 | Total: 6,168
MP: 9427
#26
HOTARU
His surprise only further breaks her heart, and she can't help the shuddering exhale that leaves her, both astonished at his response and aching for the way he shoulders the blame. "The time that has passed doesn't diminish the wrongness." Her voice is firm, unrelenting. It was Lusea's decision to forgive and move on, to reconcile after his mistake. But the actions that had led to it are still unforgivable to Hotaru, and she will not budge there, the fire in her eyes smoldering. He pleads for her not to be angry, and for a moment she nearly snaps because how can she not? But his touch gentles her as he tucks her long golden hair behind her ear, and her jaw pulses beneath her grit teeth as she reigns it in. "I can't. I can't not be angry, you did not bring it on yourself or ask for it. Yes, you should have left. You aren't without fault - but you aren't to blame." She cups his cheek, forces him to stare into her eyes, her own gaze flickering desperately. Needing him to understand, to believe her, to see past years of taking fault on his shoulders and see that he is largely innocent.

"Everyone makes mistakes. Mistakes do not include intentional manipulation, coercion, and guilt-tripping. Mistakes don't include further removing someone's ability to consent, ignoring emotional signals of weakness and confusion when in a position of power, or using sex as a way to ruin a relationship. Especially if she claims to still care for you in any way!" She is almost frantic, barely keeping a lid on the tumultuous emotions waging for dominance in her breast. The beat of her heart and quickening of her breaths is display enough that she can't control. "If I had been given a drink to loosen me up, to stop fighting him so hard when he came for me, would it have been consensual? If he kidnapped and raped me to ruin my relationship with Thranduil, would that have been okay?" It feels wrong to compare their traumas, but Hotaru needs him to relieve himself of this blame, this guilt.

She falls into him like a marionette with its strings cut, shaking in his embrace. Hotaru hates herself for not being strong for him in this moment, to be more emotionally impacted than him when he was the one who suffered. "You owe her nothing. The child you could have had never came to exist, and she is free to find another partner to try with. You...I..." her words break apart, hands coming to cling to his shirt, wanting to scream with the intensity of the fury that swells inside her.
I am a breathtaking mosaic
of all the battles I've won

Table Code by Sky!
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Online
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#27
SuNJATA
the flood
He remains silent while she tells him that time doesn’t diminish the wrongness, and he doesn’t know what to say to that. There’s nothing to say. He remains in that period of uncertainty while he asks her to not be angry,  that the past is the past is nothing to be said. But it doesn’t go well, not the way he thinks it should as she smolders and simmers, admitting his mistakes and how he isn’t to blame. She goes the extra bit to cup his cheek and get him to actually look at her, and when he does, her dual toned flaming eyes meet cool, shadowed slate. “Aren’t I?” He asks quietly, weaker; softer than she's ever heard before.

It was all his fault, he was simply atoning for his sins of a previous life. It’s almost as if he physically and emotionally can’t understand how it wasn’t his fault. But he doesn’t expect it to go the way it does, not as his gaze shutters along her pale face while she rages and rages and rages. He tries to calm her frantic emotions, quickening breaths, but he’s unable to as she compares the histories and his breath hitches slightly.

His lips form a fine line, and he still can’t quite see the comparison drawn. “No. it wouldn’t.” He agrees sadly, fingers trailing along her shoulder from where he’d previously tucked her hair behind her ear. And she falls against him, giving in, and he holds her tight as he rests his head along her own as she clings to him and huffs her frustrations, holding her close to him as he filters through his thoughts.

He closes his eyes eventually, sighing lightly despite the raging storm Hotaru has become, as he gives into the flood waters he was born from, a still overwhelming presence. “I feel like I deserve it.” His voice is gravely, laced thickly with his accent, pressing his cheek into the crown of her hair.
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
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.
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,241 | Total: 6,168
MP: 9427
#28
HOTARU
The flatness of his gaze only further breaks her heart, and she shakes her head minutely. "No. No, you aren't." No matter how many times she has to tell him, positive conditioning and friendship is all she can really offer him. But she has seen and experienced herself how powerful that alone can be. Whatever he needs from her, she will give. She has so much to give, and for now - unaware of the future and what is to come - she is happy to provide without taking away from herself. She overflows for him, and hopes that even if only tonight, he will let it chase away his doubts.

She curls against him, cursing herself for making this about her, and tries to tamp down on the maelstrom inside. At least he can understand that if the tables were turned it would not be her fault, but Hotaru can sense that his reservations still remain. That he is entertaining her more than anything. She soothes herself in his scent, his warmth, and does not speak until she has calmed. Feeling worn from all these dredged up emotions, these long histories between them. "You deserve so much more than you think, Sunjata. I promise you that." It's barely a murmur where she rests in his embrace, but she is content to ride out the rest of the night like that. Until the firelight dies and they are left with nothing else but each other to stay warm until daylight.

- FIN
I am a breathtaking mosaic
of all the battles I've won

Table Code by Sky!
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.


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