// 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’s been there once, to speak with Phoebe. Otherwise, according to her, not allowed to enter. He supposes that’s what happens when one divorces the new head of the Halenani, but that’s neither here nor there, and something Maeve would likely find out at some point. There’s a huff of a laugh that does manage to leave him at her comment, though, something that’s partially amused and partially tired. “Doesn’t.” He agrees easily, watching the way Haai melts into Maeve’s touches.
The griffin is pleased to be graced with all the attention, her wolfish head tilting this way and that so that Maeve might scratch beneath her chin or at the base of her ears, halfway between deciding to flop over onto her side to get the elusive belly rubs that would really keep her here for hours. Sunjata, however, watches the interaction with his companion and Maeve, before his steel gaze casts out along the beach again, through the cathedral to the choppy waves alongside them. “Her name’s Haai.” He offers her, glancing back toward her as her question is aired.
There’s a brief awkward half-smile that crosses his face, a slight shrug once again. His hand is still bruised from the fight as he raises it to run through a tangle of dark locks. “Quiet a few things, actually, but thankfully no mobs so far.” This is said with a hint of a smirk, poking fun at his misfortune where he can. “What are you hiding from out here…?” He trails off, realizing he hasn’t caught her name, but recognizing the understanding look reflected in her eyes.
The griffin is pleased to be graced with all the attention, her wolfish head tilting this way and that so that Maeve might scratch beneath her chin or at the base of her ears, halfway between deciding to flop over onto her side to get the elusive belly rubs that would really keep her here for hours. Sunjata, however, watches the interaction with his companion and Maeve, before his steel gaze casts out along the beach again, through the cathedral to the choppy waves alongside them. “Her name’s Haai.” He offers her, glancing back toward her as her question is aired.
There’s a brief awkward half-smile that crosses his face, a slight shrug once again. His hand is still bruised from the fight as he raises it to run through a tangle of dark locks. “Quiet a few things, actually, but thankfully no mobs so far.” This is said with a hint of a smirk, poking fun at his misfortune where he can. “What are you hiding from out here…?” He trails off, realizing he hasn’t caught her name, but recognizing the understanding look reflected in her eyes.
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.
