07-08-2018, 03:02 PM
[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]//thanks!!
His stony heart would practically leap with joy had he heard of the other female's attempts to discover his child's roots. For once, he would be fine being hunted down in that case. He wanted to reconcile with his daughter far more than anyone else thought he did, perhaps because many considered him heartless and cruel. If that was true, if he did not have a heart as many a stranger figured, he would not have dared to show his face here, to witness and address the awful consequences of his dreadful actions. But he had arrived here, driven by a powerful love for his family and a passionate desire to repair something more than a blade. To repair the bridges between others and himself.
Zjarr looked upward to notice a vaguely familiar white feline approach him. A, well, friend of one of his customers, who just so happened to be one Margaery Mikaelson. And this, that would mean, was Suiteheart, if his memory did not fail him. "Good to meet ya again, Suite," the cyborg wolf would drawl, offering her an amused smile. So she did not fail to forget him either. How pleasant. "Oh, I haven't anywhere else to turn. Consider me a comrade, then."
His smile slowly faded as Suiteheart continued. Things to explain? Of course he was willing to give an explanation. Anything to see his flesh and blood once more, to see if she had grown well. Pele, show me you're here. "Maybe you've got an idea of why I'm really here. The kiddo, kiddo. Pele, my daughter. I want to know that...that she's s-safe, eatin' well, kickin', everythin'. I want to see my child." He did not come to the Ascendants to quench his thirst for power as he had done with a distant ThunderClan, or to have some fun as his intentions were with the Rift. He was here to help raise and nurture his child of blood, to have a purpose. Some sort of purpose.
His stony heart would practically leap with joy had he heard of the other female's attempts to discover his child's roots. For once, he would be fine being hunted down in that case. He wanted to reconcile with his daughter far more than anyone else thought he did, perhaps because many considered him heartless and cruel. If that was true, if he did not have a heart as many a stranger figured, he would not have dared to show his face here, to witness and address the awful consequences of his dreadful actions. But he had arrived here, driven by a powerful love for his family and a passionate desire to repair something more than a blade. To repair the bridges between others and himself.
Zjarr looked upward to notice a vaguely familiar white feline approach him. A, well, friend of one of his customers, who just so happened to be one Margaery Mikaelson. And this, that would mean, was Suiteheart, if his memory did not fail him. "Good to meet ya again, Suite," the cyborg wolf would drawl, offering her an amused smile. So she did not fail to forget him either. How pleasant. "Oh, I haven't anywhere else to turn. Consider me a comrade, then."
His smile slowly faded as Suiteheart continued. Things to explain? Of course he was willing to give an explanation. Anything to see his flesh and blood once more, to see if she had grown well. Pele, show me you're here. "Maybe you've got an idea of why I'm really here. The kiddo, kiddo. Pele, my daughter. I want to know that...that she's s-safe, eatin' well, kickin', everythin'. I want to see my child." He did not come to the Ascendants to quench his thirst for power as he had done with a distant ThunderClan, or to have some fun as his intentions were with the Rift. He was here to help raise and nurture his child of blood, to have a purpose. Some sort of purpose.
[glow=#f24b00,2,300]how'd it get so scandalous?[/glow] — ☼