Hotaru
It's strange, being back in Torchline after everything. The Hanged Man feels like the safest space to visit her first time back with its ensured anonymity and solitude. The number of familiar faces as she makes her way there is disorienting, the mumbled greetings and tipped heads a reminder that this had once been some version of home to her. A home that had never fully solidified, and is now lost to her. Just like the Hollowed Grounds, and Halo, and Helovia in its entirety. The Greatwood doesn't feel as if it stands to even offer her the chance, and she has given up attempting to force her surroundings into some approximation of one.
When she steps in the door her eyes go to Sunjata like a magnet, like her magic itself is attuned to his very being. She wouldn't be surprised if that was true. Hesitating on the threshold long enough for someone to grumble at her for being in the way, she sighs and rethinks hanging up her traveling cloak, tightening it around herself in some approximation of a shield as she moves up to order her own drink. Taking her time to savor it mouthful by mouthful before she orders a refill. Only then taking her newly full glass and quietly moving to Sunjata's side.
Things are better between them, she knows that, but they'll never be right, and it makes her hesitate right before she slides into the seat beside him. "Rain giving you trouble?" she asks softly, knowing how it used to bring back memories for him.
When she steps in the door her eyes go to Sunjata like a magnet, like her magic itself is attuned to his very being. She wouldn't be surprised if that was true. Hesitating on the threshold long enough for someone to grumble at her for being in the way, she sighs and rethinks hanging up her traveling cloak, tightening it around herself in some approximation of a shield as she moves up to order her own drink. Taking her time to savor it mouthful by mouthful before she orders a refill. Only then taking her newly full glass and quietly moving to Sunjata's side.
Things are better between them, she knows that, but they'll never be right, and it makes her hesitate right before she slides into the seat beside him. "Rain giving you trouble?" she asks softly, knowing how it used to bring back memories for him.
But I am just a broken machine
And I do things that I don't really mean
And I do things that I don't really mean
