but i come to life, come to life
some princes don't become kings
She doesn’t care, and for a moment he’s fine to let that settle. The fact that she’s broken, a side of her he hasn’t seen but likely should have. Especially when she laughs, that maniacal insane sound that he listens to as he keeps the shovel out of her reach, tossing it back behind him among the rest of the destruction – because it didn’t matter anymore, did it? But the mention that she’s taking it out on the bar has him shaking his head, advancing toward her, to try and restrain her in some form. “Take it out on me, not the fucking bar.” He reiterates, trying to get her to focus her rage on him and not the place that people had lived in, the piece he has left of home.
She’s done caring, and he’s fine with that. Because he’d never asked her to, never wanted her to, he finds he’s given up caring too. But her accusations, while not entirely wrong, were also something that has him pausing, reaching for her again in the attempt to hold onto a part of her to get her to stop, to push her out of the bar, to assess the damage and where to fucking start after all of this. “Ascended blood test, Phoebe.” He growls, a deep sound leaving his throat as his exhaustion shines through.
“Besides, you fucking hired him.” He adds, unable to stop his tongue, wanting to say anything to pause her destruction and shove her out. “But that’s whatever. I didn’t know how to tell you about it because of how you’d react. Good to know this is it.” A muscle feathers in his jaw and he tries to herd her by getting into her space back toward the front of the door to leave. He can’t help the thundering of his chest, the exhaustion that’s set in, the anger at the destruction caused to an innocent place when she should have come for him instead.
“I’m done with this, done with this spite marriage, done trying. Phoebe. Get out of my fucking bar. It's over.” Lifting his left hand he removes the ring, tossing it into the rubble behind him – wondering if he can find a way to break the enchantment and turn it into something else because god, it was a great gift. It’s too bad the attachment is to this of all things.
She’s done caring, and he’s fine with that. Because he’d never asked her to, never wanted her to, he finds he’s given up caring too. But her accusations, while not entirely wrong, were also something that has him pausing, reaching for her again in the attempt to hold onto a part of her to get her to stop, to push her out of the bar, to assess the damage and where to fucking start after all of this. “Ascended blood test, Phoebe.” He growls, a deep sound leaving his throat as his exhaustion shines through.
“Besides, you fucking hired him.” He adds, unable to stop his tongue, wanting to say anything to pause her destruction and shove her out. “But that’s whatever. I didn’t know how to tell you about it because of how you’d react. Good to know this is it.” A muscle feathers in his jaw and he tries to herd her by getting into her space back toward the front of the door to leave. He can’t help the thundering of his chest, the exhaustion that’s set in, the anger at the destruction caused to an innocent place when she should have come for him instead.
“I’m done with this, done with this spite marriage, done trying. Phoebe. Get out of my fucking bar. It's over.” Lifting his left hand he removes the ring, tossing it into the rubble behind him – wondering if he can find a way to break the enchantment and turn it into something else because god, it was a great gift. It’s too bad the attachment is to this of all things.
even at the best of times,
i'm out of my mind
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.
