scratch, kick, let gravity win

you've got an appetite for destruction

i guess that makes you just like me

There’s an amused roll of his eyes granted toward Nate when he says he got a lot out of it. But the stance they’re in right now, the way Nate’s nearly draped over the attuned, is comfortable, and he leans into it as if the Ascended is some sort of cat, content to remain so long as Sunjata doesn’t make a move. Not like Sunjata has the energy at this very moment to do such a thing, so he leans back and watches as Nate filters through what kind of explanation he chooses to give.

Instead, he focuses on the light tapping to his tattooed shoulder, gaze lingering along Nate’s own tattoos before finding his face again. A frown finds his face at the mention of beatings, something they evidently shared with one another’s tragic pasts, but he doesn’t comment on it to take away from the fact. Just a hum from his throat in understanding. His hand finds Nate’s hair again, running through until he ends with his fingers tangled in the hair at the back of the Ascended’s neck, rubbing his thumb along the side.

“How old was that?” He asks quietly, wondering what it must have been like to be on the opposite side. The difference between his growing up and how he knows Lusea had, both similar and yet so different.

you put the barrel inside your mouth

just to feel the metal between your teeth

SuNJATA