if i let go, would you hold on, would we fly?
is it safer if we just say that we tried?
Finally, finally he stops moving. And gods he’s fucking tired, weary, drained, and he can’t help it when he starts to shift back into himself — the only parts remaining partially shifted are his fingers, tinged and edged in the black of the panther form. He feels like he’s being swallowed up, reminiscent of when they taught him to swim and his leg got trapped beneath the piece of driftwood, pulling him under and under. He has a thought to just let it crush him, that the efforts he’s made are virtually useless, that the drowning and suffocation can’t come fast enough.
Except then it’s gone.
Loren’s magic reveals him from the mud, cleaning most of the mud off and leaving him drenched, but he can breathe. And Haai, realizing this, dives straight down into his chest as he gasps for breath, collapsing to his knees, hands in the mud as he gasps and swallows down what air he can. His bones groan and hurt, throb within him, but he’s alive.
He can’t say the same for everyone else, weary steel eyes look around at the carnage and they had been too late. Too late. Not enough. His jaw clenches, blood running down from his temple and a few cuts along his jaw. Loren is there, a hand to his shoulder, filling him with the warmth of healing that lull the soreness of his bones, the bruises, cuts, scars. His shirt is torn, but he’s in one piece. And before he can thank the Launceleyn, the man is off.
But he’s still trying to get his bearings, still trying to pull himself together when he hears Hotaru’s shriek first Deimos, Phoebe’s own sob behind, Rexanna and Loren’s voices barking orders. It feels like war, and he has no time to stay still. So he rises, slowly, unsteadily, clawed hands clenching as he finally gets the air he needs into his lungs.
And it’s a mess. “Go help search.” He hoarsely says to Haai, the griffin going to help and search the debris and mud for survivors. There’s enough that are helping the wounded, even as his gaze spots Melita surrounded by others, and he’s off immediately, moving past Phoebe and Loren, dropping to his knees around the fiery girl. “Mel, ek het nodig dat jy loop.” He tells her, voice cracking on her name as he places hands beneath her knees and torso to try and get her up, though he can carry her if she’s still too weak.
Mel, ek het nodig dat jy loop. — Mel, I need you to stand.
Except then it’s gone.
Loren’s magic reveals him from the mud, cleaning most of the mud off and leaving him drenched, but he can breathe. And Haai, realizing this, dives straight down into his chest as he gasps for breath, collapsing to his knees, hands in the mud as he gasps and swallows down what air he can. His bones groan and hurt, throb within him, but he’s alive.
He can’t say the same for everyone else, weary steel eyes look around at the carnage and they had been too late. Too late. Not enough. His jaw clenches, blood running down from his temple and a few cuts along his jaw. Loren is there, a hand to his shoulder, filling him with the warmth of healing that lull the soreness of his bones, the bruises, cuts, scars. His shirt is torn, but he’s in one piece. And before he can thank the Launceleyn, the man is off.
But he’s still trying to get his bearings, still trying to pull himself together when he hears Hotaru’s shriek first Deimos, Phoebe’s own sob behind, Rexanna and Loren’s voices barking orders. It feels like war, and he has no time to stay still. So he rises, slowly, unsteadily, clawed hands clenching as he finally gets the air he needs into his lungs.
And it’s a mess. “Go help search.” He hoarsely says to Haai, the griffin going to help and search the debris and mud for survivors. There’s enough that are helping the wounded, even as his gaze spots Melita surrounded by others, and he’s off immediately, moving past Phoebe and Loren, dropping to his knees around the fiery girl. “Mel, ek het nodig dat jy loop.” He tells her, voice cracking on her name as he places hands beneath her knees and torso to try and get her up, though he can carry her if she’s still too weak.
Mel, ek het nodig dat jy loop. — Mel, I need you to stand.
are we laughing at the danger?
are we dancing after death, you and I?
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.
