don't you know i'm no good for you?
She grasps his wrist, enough of a surprise for him that he lifts his head up to look over the wide expanse of the valley below them – not wanting to show her, not wanting her to see just how damaged he’d become. The drowning Flood. He is not well, not in the slightest, and he’s made so many mistakes within the last couple of months, that he doesn’t even know where to start. But she keeps her hold on his wrist, and he thinks for a moment the time she’d chained it to a bed, when things had been easier, when things had been better – and he exhales a quiet rasping sigh, shifting toward her, but not standing – swinging one leg over the edge of the bone bridge back to solid ground as he lifts his horned head and his chin to look at her.
Shadows hover within his eyes, bags beneath them. A paleness to him of overdoing it, of drinking in Halo when he shouldn’t have been, the surprising sobriety he faces now with it all, and he lets her inspect him despite how much he wishes to shy away from her judgement, from her face as she takes the box but doesn’t open it, telling him that she only sees a gift and no apology. And to that, that’s absolutely true. He inhales another rattling and short breath, tilting his head slightly, refraining from grabbing her back, but looking down at where their hands connect, long enough to see the silver band around her wrist that matches his.
There’s a weak smile that crosses his face, though large enough that she could likely see the fangs if she looked hard enough. “I’m sorry.” He says roughly, refusing to look at her face, focusing on that silver band he’d given her. He doesn’t touch her, just lets her grip his wrist, his attention through that, not sure if he could handle a shock to his system in this very moment. “I made… Terrible mistakes, and I wish I could go back and change them, but Fiat Lux and getting sick and everything just… It all went to shit. And I’m sorry.” I’m sorry I’m so weak.
Shadows hover within his eyes, bags beneath them. A paleness to him of overdoing it, of drinking in Halo when he shouldn’t have been, the surprising sobriety he faces now with it all, and he lets her inspect him despite how much he wishes to shy away from her judgement, from her face as she takes the box but doesn’t open it, telling him that she only sees a gift and no apology. And to that, that’s absolutely true. He inhales another rattling and short breath, tilting his head slightly, refraining from grabbing her back, but looking down at where their hands connect, long enough to see the silver band around her wrist that matches his.
There’s a weak smile that crosses his face, though large enough that she could likely see the fangs if she looked hard enough. “I’m sorry.” He says roughly, refusing to look at her face, focusing on that silver band he’d given her. He doesn’t touch her, just lets her grip his wrist, his attention through that, not sure if he could handle a shock to his system in this very moment. “I made… Terrible mistakes, and I wish I could go back and change them, but Fiat Lux and getting sick and everything just… It all went to shit. And I’m sorry.” I’m sorry I’m so weak.
i've learned to lose, you can't afford to
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.
