// the edge is getting closer, it's a long spiral down. it's so fun to fly 'til you hit the ground
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //
He watches the lines of wood grain until he thinks he might be able to picture them perfectly when he closes his eyes. But instead, torn out of it with a hand on his shoulder and he flinches. He swallows the panic that swells within him, bites the inside of his cheek hard enough that it schools his face into something aloof, distant. “I was… Sick for a bit. Kept seeing visions of my father during Leafchange, thought it would change when Deepfrost happened. It didn’t.” He pauses, mulling over how the fuck to say it that made sense.
“I got sleeping meds from Vai but, something happened. It wasn’t sleeping meds. The hallucinations got worse and I was drugging myself for nearly half a season.” He still doesn’t know if he hallucinated his father the first time they’d crossed officially, but he takes a shuddering breath and pushes away from the table a fraction, bracing his hands on both sides, his anger palpable in an icy cold rage that spreads along his tattooed shoulders. “And then I found him. My bastard of a father. He doesn’t look like himself, the only thing that remained was his voice.” His rage washes out with the words, the anger, the frustration, the realization that if he had tried to explain that to Remi that it wouldn’t have made sense either.
“He broke my wing. I didn’t tell Nate. I… I didn’t tell anyone.” The rage is gone in a breath, replaced by cold wrought fear. “He killed a man I banished from Torchline and left him in the Slagveld for me to find.” Pinned by his wings. A mockery.
“I got sleeping meds from Vai but, something happened. It wasn’t sleeping meds. The hallucinations got worse and I was drugging myself for nearly half a season.” He still doesn’t know if he hallucinated his father the first time they’d crossed officially, but he takes a shuddering breath and pushes away from the table a fraction, bracing his hands on both sides, his anger palpable in an icy cold rage that spreads along his tattooed shoulders. “And then I found him. My bastard of a father. He doesn’t look like himself, the only thing that remained was his voice.” His rage washes out with the words, the anger, the frustration, the realization that if he had tried to explain that to Remi that it wouldn’t have made sense either.
“He broke my wing. I didn’t tell Nate. I… I didn’t tell anyone.” The rage is gone in a breath, replaced by cold wrought fear. “He killed a man I banished from Torchline and left him in the Slagveld for me to find.” Pinned by his wings. A mockery.
it's hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands
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.
