we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different
the same old things expecting something different
Oh. Oh.
There’s a challenge in the tone of Locke, something that the Flood certainly takes as a challenge, even if it’s smoothed over by Nate’s words, by the flush that creeps up his neck, hiding beneath the stubble to his chin, the edges of it visible nearer to his cheeks. There’s a twitch of his lips, something animalistic in the way it tugs before it’s soothed with the motion Nate takes around the horn that’s curled through his longer dark hair.
His head is rocked which certainly takes him out of the challenging stare down he wants to have with Nate. And he can’t help the edge of a huff that leaves him when Nate audibly comments on it, the pulse of jealousy that slips from him that he’s sure everyone at this table can feel. But it’s smoothed down again, his ruffled feathers flattening with the sensation Nate offers through his side of the bond.
Attention is brought back to Nate with the nickname, with the comment, and the shake of his head. And he realizes that two can play at this game, and it’s with a roguish slow curl of his lips that he hums his agreement. “You are.” He agrees, pausing to take a sip of his coffee, before setting it down and letting his gaze focus on Locke again, tilting his head into Nate’s hand a bit more, gaze slipping over toward his husband as his feathers ruffle again ever so slightly with the sensation. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's already having a bit of fun... But there can always be more to be had, hm?" A dark brow rises, steel gaze bouncing between Nate and Locke.
There’s a challenge in the tone of Locke, something that the Flood certainly takes as a challenge, even if it’s smoothed over by Nate’s words, by the flush that creeps up his neck, hiding beneath the stubble to his chin, the edges of it visible nearer to his cheeks. There’s a twitch of his lips, something animalistic in the way it tugs before it’s soothed with the motion Nate takes around the horn that’s curled through his longer dark hair.
His head is rocked which certainly takes him out of the challenging stare down he wants to have with Nate. And he can’t help the edge of a huff that leaves him when Nate audibly comments on it, the pulse of jealousy that slips from him that he’s sure everyone at this table can feel. But it’s smoothed down again, his ruffled feathers flattening with the sensation Nate offers through his side of the bond.
Attention is brought back to Nate with the nickname, with the comment, and the shake of his head. And he realizes that two can play at this game, and it’s with a roguish slow curl of his lips that he hums his agreement. “You are.” He agrees, pausing to take a sip of his coffee, before setting it down and letting his gaze focus on Locke again, tilting his head into Nate’s hand a bit more, gaze slipping over toward his husband as his feathers ruffle again ever so slightly with the sensation. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's already having a bit of fun... But there can always be more to be had, hm?" A dark brow rises, steel gaze bouncing between Nate and Locke.
but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste
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.
