We're riding 'round this carousel, getting dizzy 'til we're sick
“You’re right.” Sunjata agrees softly. The companionship of comfortability rather than pretending with everyone else. They could wear masks all day with people that didn’t know them, but together? It was like a film pressed on, bubbles in the wrong spaces, where they’re intimately aware that they’re hiding. And for good reason, too, because he places it upon his face when he gets too close to something, when the conversation shifts in a way that hurts but he doesn’t want to give anyone fire to shoot back at him later.
But with them? They’d already hurt each other the most they could to each other. With broken hearts, imprisonment, arguments, and the burned remains of a building that had so many memories in it; they’re moths to each other’s flame. Perhaps it was their nature, because even if they had so many painful memories and parts of their pasts, nobody knew them anymore the way that they knew each other.
So he sips from the glass, keeps his hand with hers as she intertwines it, not even daring to think that he might part the connection they have as he readjusts to lean on his hand. “I think it’s being a demigod.” Though he has no true way of knowing. His tolerance was high as well, given his coping mechanisms. Only one he’s followed through with since Nate, the rest he’d felt too guilty to indulge in. Not this, though, not as she leans into his side and he presses back in against her. “How has Halo been?” He asks, trying to find some idle small talk to keep them there, even as his head shifts slightly to rest against her own.
But with them? They’d already hurt each other the most they could to each other. With broken hearts, imprisonment, arguments, and the burned remains of a building that had so many memories in it; they’re moths to each other’s flame. Perhaps it was their nature, because even if they had so many painful memories and parts of their pasts, nobody knew them anymore the way that they knew each other.
So he sips from the glass, keeps his hand with hers as she intertwines it, not even daring to think that he might part the connection they have as he readjusts to lean on his hand. “I think it’s being a demigod.” Though he has no true way of knowing. His tolerance was high as well, given his coping mechanisms. Only one he’s followed through with since Nate, the rest he’d felt too guilty to indulge in. Not this, though, not as she leans into his side and he presses back in against her. “How has Halo been?” He asks, trying to find some idle small talk to keep them there, even as his head shifts slightly to rest against her own.
the flood
Love is like a circle, there's no easy way to end
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.
