NATE
I feel a bubble in my organs and veins
In trouble, but ignoring the pain
In trouble, but ignoring the pain
There is more that wants to bubble out, memories and his own failings, projected onto another man, an uncanny unwanted mirror. Nate feels a tremor run through his body, his fist clenching tighter still, nails now slick with fluid. He almost gets the chance to step forward, when arms circle him. All of the fight bleeds out of him in an instant, shoulders slumping and his gaze drifting somewhere very far away.
”Told you what it takes.” He murmurs, hollow eye finding Loren’s face, and not moving. Supporting arms draw back, and Nate sways, just a touch. ”Tried to give her water, and she said no.” It would be the same with the lilies, the same with whatever cure the Firebrand is working on that is so promising. Is it selfish, taking food from the mouth of one to help the other? Perhaps. But they have no other options, at least sane, Nate can lend his skill, his expertise. Right now though, all he is is a shell of emotions and impulses, self control a distant dream.
And again, anger bubbles out, the hollow mask shattering, just enough for Nate’s lip to curl and a snarl to leave him. ”Oh we can? We have your permission?” The vitriolic words are strange, compared to the blankness of the ascendeds gaze, still locked on Loren. Emotion, aimed improperly, wasted, on an irritation that doesn’t matter. The hot flash is gone as quickly as it came though, arms drawing away from him entirely and Nate’s hand twisting more securely in Sunjata’s shirt.
There’s another tremble, Nate’s voice far less steady when it comes out this time. ”When it comes down to it.” He corrects, before pausing, stare finally breaking away from Loren to move to his husband instead. There’s surprise, an aborted shifting of Nate’s brows before the hand in the attuned’s clothes slips to find his hand instead, and squeezes. He doesn’t ask for anything else, doesn’t have anything clever or angry to add to the request. There’s nothing left in him but a rapidly dwindling hope.
”Told you what it takes.” He murmurs, hollow eye finding Loren’s face, and not moving. Supporting arms draw back, and Nate sways, just a touch. ”Tried to give her water, and she said no.” It would be the same with the lilies, the same with whatever cure the Firebrand is working on that is so promising. Is it selfish, taking food from the mouth of one to help the other? Perhaps. But they have no other options, at least sane, Nate can lend his skill, his expertise. Right now though, all he is is a shell of emotions and impulses, self control a distant dream.
And again, anger bubbles out, the hollow mask shattering, just enough for Nate’s lip to curl and a snarl to leave him. ”Oh we can? We have your permission?” The vitriolic words are strange, compared to the blankness of the ascendeds gaze, still locked on Loren. Emotion, aimed improperly, wasted, on an irritation that doesn’t matter. The hot flash is gone as quickly as it came though, arms drawing away from him entirely and Nate’s hand twisting more securely in Sunjata’s shirt.
There’s another tremble, Nate’s voice far less steady when it comes out this time. ”When it comes down to it.” He corrects, before pausing, stare finally breaking away from Loren to move to his husband instead. There’s surprise, an aborted shifting of Nate’s brows before the hand in the attuned’s clothes slips to find his hand instead, and squeezes. He doesn’t ask for anything else, doesn’t have anything clever or angry to add to the request. There’s nothing left in him but a rapidly dwindling hope.
doubling my score in the game
Fuck you and your whores into fame
Fuck you and your whores into fame
