// so now you've done a little wrong and you need to be forgiven,
by the vicar and the company you keep //
by the vicar and the company you keep //
Is there anything she can do to help? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what would help other than the fact that he’s a second away from falling apart, from curling up in the bed and trying to pretend that nothing had happened, to keep himself from feeling it too intensely as he tries to rationalize what happened despite there not being any way to rationalize it. But he’s silent for too long, the hand slipping up to his face to the bridge of his nose, to his temples to rub at them even if his hair still drips water.
He curls in on himself, because he can’t cry in front of her – he has to be strong, has to pretend to be strong. He has to slide that mask into place, has to keep that stony, numb, cold composure for as long as it takes. The single breath he takes breaks it apart, however, as it hitches and shudders on the inhale, as his voice wavers and cracks with a simple word. “Okay.” The wing tucks in tighter and he’s thankful for the darkness of it all, for the hand that covers his eyes to hide the tears that well in his eyes and his throat grows tight enough that it feels raw.
Haai trots in from wherever she’d been, hopping up onto the bed to curl around him with low pitched whines, trying her best to keep him together too and despite her attempts, he still starts to fall apart.
He curls in on himself, because he can’t cry in front of her – he has to be strong, has to pretend to be strong. He has to slide that mask into place, has to keep that stony, numb, cold composure for as long as it takes. The single breath he takes breaks it apart, however, as it hitches and shudders on the inhale, as his voice wavers and cracks with a simple word. “Okay.” The wing tucks in tighter and he’s thankful for the darkness of it all, for the hand that covers his eyes to hide the tears that well in his eyes and his throat grows tight enough that it feels raw.
Haai trots in from wherever she’d been, hopping up onto the bed to curl around him with low pitched whines, trying her best to keep him together too and despite her attempts, he still starts to fall apart.
// this is the sin that i will confess to release myself
from consequence and everyone can tell //
from consequence and everyone can tell //
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.
