save your eyes for someone brighter than i will ever be
“Maybe.” He muses to her, a slight smile crossing his face at the thought. He doesn’t know how Saartjie would’ve reacted to meeting Maea, wouldn’t know where to even begin. But the conversation shifts to the darker topics, and there’s a wry smile that crosses his face at her thoughts on the matter. “They prided themselves on choosing advantageous marriages. Which would produce the best, strongest heirs.” He hums quietly, focusing on that only bringing a slight falter to his face.
But her lips are there, and he finds the edge to bring that smile back — thumb stroking along her neck and the marks he’d left her before settling back in again, to explain the entirety of the Korofi barbaric customs, though his eyes remain on her throughout, inches away from her own face.
“I was supposed to have all the directness of my father; the strength, power, and ability to shut out empathy.” He shrugs. “I wasn’t any of that.” There was a lot of resentment in that, in what he'd told Maea that day at the river of how his father handled his misbehaving. But that was a different life, a different time, and he had been soft… scared, broken before he could even be pieced back together, living a life under cameras and people, within a home with a mother too afraid to get attached to him should he perish during his trial. “I was too soft of a person, too many feelings, too attached. I’m sure he hoped I would’ve drowned during the flood tests. Sure he hoped I’d be the first to go in the trial. But I wasn’t.”
No, instead he’d helped kill a dozen other boys who had their daggers and guns aimed his direction.
But her lips are there, and he finds the edge to bring that smile back — thumb stroking along her neck and the marks he’d left her before settling back in again, to explain the entirety of the Korofi barbaric customs, though his eyes remain on her throughout, inches away from her own face.
“I was supposed to have all the directness of my father; the strength, power, and ability to shut out empathy.” He shrugs. “I wasn’t any of that.” There was a lot of resentment in that, in what he'd told Maea that day at the river of how his father handled his misbehaving. But that was a different life, a different time, and he had been soft… scared, broken before he could even be pieced back together, living a life under cameras and people, within a home with a mother too afraid to get attached to him should he perish during his trial. “I was too soft of a person, too many feelings, too attached. I’m sure he hoped I would’ve drowned during the flood tests. Sure he hoped I’d be the first to go in the trial. But I wasn’t.”
No, instead he’d helped kill a dozen other boys who had their daggers and guns aimed his direction.
don't hesitate to bring me to my knees
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.
