Strange Days

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

The gentle squeeze from Nate is welcome, somewhat thankful, though he’s too tired to give into it and try to take more out of him. So his hand drops as Nate speaks next, steel gaze flickering over toward the room they surround themselves in – somewhat childproof with daggers and knives tall and high out of reach, arrows and his bow slung up high as well just in case, and there’s a further pooling of sorrow in his gut at it when Nate speaks next – gaze flickering back to the electric blues when hands smooth over navy feathers.

“We did.” He agrees quietly, knowing that they had. But at what cost, really, when it didn’t feel like it mattered anyway?

A muscle feathers in his jaw as Nate departs, watching the back of him before Sunjata leans forward a small amount to brace his elbows along his legs and rub at his eyes with the palms of his hands. He looks up to spot the glass and the alcohol, a brow raised silently at the fact that he was offering it – knowing his problems and where this leads to – but taking it nonetheless. A deep sip is given of it, swallowing down against the burn sharply.

“I just.” He begins, trailing off with a slight roll of his eyes, hands clutching at the glass now hovering between his legs. “Its one thing after another.” Lusea’s death round two. Adam and Peter and the dragon. Maea and the ghost whales. The Volcano erupting. There’s a weak smile and a huff of feigned amusement that leaves him. “When does it end? When do those that I surround myself with finally stay? When does it stop feeling like it's all my fault?” A shake of his head as he looks down to the glass in his hands. "I... Don't think I can handle much more."

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed