// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
He tries to pull the griffin away from the crab to no avail, half between opening his mouth again to curse her out in Korofi if it weren’t for the voice that pipes up and distracts the both of them. Haai is immediately far more interested in Maeve than the crab that tried to take her nose off, and so the griffin dives through Sunjata’s legs, bouncing over toward her to greet her – feathered and furry tail wagging in her excitement, magpie hued wings flaring in her excitement.
Of course, she’d moved so fast through Sunjata’s legs that that, paired with how fucking sore he still is, causes him to stumble and utter a quiet “fucking hell” as he regains his balance, lifts his gaze to find the source of the voice. He’s sure he’s seen her around before, though he can’t quite place where. But that’s fine, it seemed more and more common as of late. He clears his throat, offering a nod and a small half smile of greeting – if only because the scarred part of his face is still trying to heal. “You weren’t.” He offers more officially, voice a bit rough still and thickly accented.
“It’s a good place to hide away and think.” His tattooed shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, a snort leaving him to accompany his words. He pulls his steel gaze away from her to look back at his companion, while he remains on his side of the cathedral, trying to ensure he won't have to pull Haai off of her too.
Of course, she’d moved so fast through Sunjata’s legs that that, paired with how fucking sore he still is, causes him to stumble and utter a quiet “fucking hell” as he regains his balance, lifts his gaze to find the source of the voice. He’s sure he’s seen her around before, though he can’t quite place where. But that’s fine, it seemed more and more common as of late. He clears his throat, offering a nod and a small half smile of greeting – if only because the scarred part of his face is still trying to heal. “You weren’t.” He offers more officially, voice a bit rough still and thickly accented.
“It’s a good place to hide away and think.” His tattooed shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, a snort leaving him to accompany his words. He pulls his steel gaze away from her to look back at his companion, while he remains on his side of the cathedral, trying to ensure he won't have to pull Haai off of her too.
some princes don't become kings
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.
