it's bad enough to see the sunlight through your seams
A sound of agreement slips from the Flood’s throat, a slight incline of his head in a nod. “Not these days.” He tacks on, his accented voice taking on a tone of what seemed not unlike bitterness. Or sorrow, if one read too much into it. For now, however, the conversation grows heavier, wearier, dragging on his shoulders in a way that seems to make him appear shorter and less looming.
He casts a glance back at Mateo with a small apologetic smile, as if knowing the naivety of youth first hand. (How he’d hoped if he was a perfect son, his father might not hate him as much as he had. He’d learned early on how sometimes things just didn’t work like that.) And when it came to Ronin, well, some things lay buried between them that can’t be crossed over.
“Unfortunately, I think too much of our relationship’s been broken.” But it doesn’t mean that he isn’t halfway grateful for the fact Ronin had kept him alive. Even if it came with the heartache of Nate’s passing – at least Nate had gone first, wouldn’t have had to experience that. It was the last thing the Lone Ranger deserved to deal with, he thinks.
Mist encases them heavier the further they step in, and it’s with an encouraging smile and a nod that Sunjata guides him through on familiar pathing. “Nope. Hope you’re wearing something waterproof.” As he says it, he partially shifts his skin to the scales of his snake skin, trying to block out as much of the water sticking to him as he can.
He casts a glance back at Mateo with a small apologetic smile, as if knowing the naivety of youth first hand. (How he’d hoped if he was a perfect son, his father might not hate him as much as he had. He’d learned early on how sometimes things just didn’t work like that.) And when it came to Ronin, well, some things lay buried between them that can’t be crossed over.
“Unfortunately, I think too much of our relationship’s been broken.” But it doesn’t mean that he isn’t halfway grateful for the fact Ronin had kept him alive. Even if it came with the heartache of Nate’s passing – at least Nate had gone first, wouldn’t have had to experience that. It was the last thing the Lone Ranger deserved to deal with, he thinks.
Mist encases them heavier the further they step in, and it’s with an encouraging smile and a nod that Sunjata guides him through on familiar pathing. “Nope. Hope you’re wearing something waterproof.” As he says it, he partially shifts his skin to the scales of his snake skin, trying to block out as much of the water sticking to him as he can.
the flood
the thread of you and hem of me, it's bad enough in between
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
