ave atque vale

so you drink your day away till the liquor in your mouth laughs

There is a storm brewing, yet for Sunjata it’s only external as he slips from the Halenani, drunk and high and all combinations of bad decisions. It’s a wonder he can even walk through the alley, given everything, but he manages it. He manages it further when he realizes that he does still get to go embrace the storm, plated up with armor and horns on display, the only thing he doesn’t have out are his wings.

Because honestly? He’d probably blow over with one rogue wind.

He rounds a corner rather abruptly, sure that it’s the path to take home, when there’s something equally as big, not quite as tall, but feels like a wall regardless as he walks right into it. He stumbles back a fraction to scan what he walked into with a snicker as he finally realizes it’s Ronin. “Sorry… Oh hi Ronin.” He chimes with an easy smile, swaying a fraction as he plants his feet. “Oh! Did you… You heard the news, huh?” His accent slips thicker, mixing and melding with torchline’s slang as he peers at the Star with a flush to his skin and blown pupils.

and the mirrors paint you beautiful like older photographs

but we grow, we grow old, even this won't last

SUNJATA