ransom notes keep falling out your mouth, mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.
Her jaw feathers and her frustration is evident and Sunjata remains impassive, cold, quiet. “It hurts to talk, Maeve.” It’s an easier admission, something that’s absolutely evident in how he’s trying his hardest not to dive into everything so deep or so quick. He’s trying to get his point across in as few words as possible and if she misheard him, well, it happened he supposes.
But she dives into the fact Aurelia bears the same scars that he has and his gaze drifts to his right hand, to the pale branching scars from his hand that dive beneath Safrin’s tattoos, only to rise again at his chest. “Anything’s possible.” He shrugs, as if it makes it easier and not that much more fucking complicated than it already was.
The man who entered, though, fits Jack’s description and Sunjata nods – having gotten the file recants from the Captain himself as well as the memories replayed for Nate for the two of them to pour over even if it only insighted heartbreak and rage.
So he nods, because it’s easier that way, pulling in the information Maeve offers and compiling it and comparing it against his own. And when she sighs and regards him, his gaze lifts to meet hers – jaw set tight, steel gaze glinting and slit in the firelight, the dancing flames reflected on the hard material of his horns, but he doesn’t move as she shifts closer.
He doesn’t give her his thoughts on it, though, choosing instead to work his jaw and shake his head. “I’m glad nobody was hurt at least.”
But she dives into the fact Aurelia bears the same scars that he has and his gaze drifts to his right hand, to the pale branching scars from his hand that dive beneath Safrin’s tattoos, only to rise again at his chest. “Anything’s possible.” He shrugs, as if it makes it easier and not that much more fucking complicated than it already was.
The man who entered, though, fits Jack’s description and Sunjata nods – having gotten the file recants from the Captain himself as well as the memories replayed for Nate for the two of them to pour over even if it only insighted heartbreak and rage.
So he nods, because it’s easier that way, pulling in the information Maeve offers and compiling it and comparing it against his own. And when she sighs and regards him, his gaze lifts to meet hers – jaw set tight, steel gaze glinting and slit in the firelight, the dancing flames reflected on the hard material of his horns, but he doesn’t move as she shifts closer.
He doesn’t give her his thoughts on it, though, choosing instead to work his jaw and shake his head. “I’m glad nobody was hurt at least.”
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.
