now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat
it's a bearable bruise on your conscious
Deimos would be right to think that he’s losing control of his life. He is, he’s watching from the sidelines as it spirals out of control, as it breaks and shreds apart into a semblance of nothing — where once the Flood may have been strong, may have been powerful too, a soldier… He can already see that fragile child returning, and he hates it — hates that part of him and wishes he could tear from his heart, from his soul. But the question? Is he alright? No. No, he’s not alright in the slightest.
Stuffing the boxes into his pocket, he watches as Deimos’ head pivots back to him and he sighs a rasping sound. “I’m okay.” He offers the General, a muscle feathering in his jaw. He takes the space that Deimos offers him, listening to the horrors that happened outside of his own centered chaos, and sighs quietly. An incident. But as Deimos tells him Amalia was paralyzed, it’s his turn to twist his horned head to the general, biting down on the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry.” He offers, unsure what else to say.
He’d never met the Shield.
“Sure.” He says, moving and lowering himself to the ground as well, pressing hands into the wood to hold it in place so Deimos could start to put together the ramps. “I’ve never met her but I’ve heard a lot about her.” He rumbles thoughtfully. “Safrin made me one of her Attuned. Everyone keeps telling me I should meet Amalia.” He rumbles, gaze lifting to Deimos. “If you need anything to help or a buddy to spar with, just ask.” It would go against the doctors orders, but he doesn’t care. Not when he’s just learned about this.
Stuffing the boxes into his pocket, he watches as Deimos’ head pivots back to him and he sighs a rasping sound. “I’m okay.” He offers the General, a muscle feathering in his jaw. He takes the space that Deimos offers him, listening to the horrors that happened outside of his own centered chaos, and sighs quietly. An incident. But as Deimos tells him Amalia was paralyzed, it’s his turn to twist his horned head to the general, biting down on the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry.” He offers, unsure what else to say.
He’d never met the Shield.
“Sure.” He says, moving and lowering himself to the ground as well, pressing hands into the wood to hold it in place so Deimos could start to put together the ramps. “I’ve never met her but I’ve heard a lot about her.” He rumbles thoughtfully. “Safrin made me one of her Attuned. Everyone keeps telling me I should meet Amalia.” He rumbles, gaze lifting to Deimos. “If you need anything to help or a buddy to spar with, just ask.” It would go against the doctors orders, but he doesn’t care. Not when he’s just learned about this.
but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?
i am the way and the life in the best looking truth
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.
