#tojida

      𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐆. arms were folded, leaning awkwardly in the space beside his classroom. he doesn't enter, only listens to him speak in muffled gibberish. sukuna assumes there is a reason for avoiding him. but to outright ignore his messages ? bastard they weren't through here. it was a simple mistake, something misunderstood. quite frankly, he didn't know exactly what the 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌 was this time. usually voices raised when they met with issues, then it usually ended one way : becoming tousled in the sheets with their clothing strewn around.

      gaze which stared out into empty space now flickers back to reality, noticing crowds expel and abandon fushiguro to his own devices. heavy doors now shut behind him, standing guard and also keeping @tojida from leaving. both hands occupy his pockets, conveying 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐃 irritation that carried itself with a narrowed stare. ❛ not that you give a shit, but blocking my number while we both occupy the same building is counter productive. ❞

✱ 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 : @tojida › ❪ 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖈𝖊 ❫   .

The goddess stands at the stove, tending to the sizzling meal. It’s just something quick and easy at ass o’clock in the morning, meant to tide over the hungover Toji slumped against the kitchen island ⸻ head propped on crossed arms, draped damn near completely over the countertop. Every now and again, Saint glances back to make sure the idiot isn’t in danger of slippin’ off the bar stool. Last thing they need is the dour drunk crackin’ his skull on somethin’ in their kitchen. It’d probably hurt the kitchen more than that thick fuckin’ head of his.

Another look over their shoulder settles them, for the moment, and Saint turns their attention back to the pan, focused on not burnin’ the food. He’s so damn lucky they even bothering to make him anything at all. But Saint knows when Toji gets to drinkin’ like this, he don’t care about eatin’ ⸻ no way, no how. And somehow, it becomes Saint’s responsibility anyway. Ain’t that ’bout it? They answered the phone. They decided to go get that slurrin’ idiot before he hurt someone, or himself.

The goddess don’t quite look up until a shadow falls over the counter, loomin’ while they hunched over somethin’ that smell mighty fine. They don’t say much, and neither does the sorcerer. Saint don’t expect him to. This thing with the other, this ain’t even their second rodeo. It ain’t the first time they been subjected to Toji three sheets to the wind, waverin’ on usually steady feet. Whatever demons he’s wrestlin’ with got him low. It’s in the slope of his back. The tense line of his shoulders. The way shadows cling to his already midnight-dark eyes. And finally, in the sound of his voice when he deigns to speak at all.

❛ no ones gonna save me from my memories . ❜

The goddess stands there, ruminating on his words for a moment. Then ruby eyes slide up, catching his downturned stare trained on the steady movement of their hand as they cook. He look lost. In his thoughts. In his heart. In his life. The ache must be profound.

Black eyes lift, and Saint return the stare.

One moment. Then another.

A long time pass with nothin’ but the quiet sizzle between them. When the food start smellin’ done, Saint breaks eye contact, shifts the pan to the nearest dead eye, and leans over to turn the heat off.

❝ You cain’t even save yerself ⸻ how de hell anybody else ’posed to do for ya ? ❞ The words come soft, a sigh trailin’ close behind when they realize they might’ve cut a little too sharp.

People can help pull you out the mire of all the unkind memories hangin’ on while you’re trekkin’ through the bayou ⸻ but ultimately, you gotta wanna be helped. Toji don’t even know if he wanna be free. Tryna haul somebody determined to keep they head under the waterline ain’t nothin’ but a fool’s errand. Tryna help someone who won’t help theyself is a one-way ticket to gettin’ dragged down with ’em.

That’s why Saint keep a clear line, a careful distance, between their two shores. It don’t look like much. They’re sure they seem approachable enough. But there will always be a stretch of water Saint won’t wade through. They won’t crack themselves open for the walkin’ dead. That’d just be an exercise in futility.

❝ C’mere. Hand me a plate. ❞ There’s nothin’ else to say. No advice meant for deaf ears. He don’t want it no way.

😂 What’s the dumbest thing they’ve ever laughed at for way too long?

☀️ What’s their happiest childhood memory?

🍽️ What meal do they cook when they need to feel like themselves again?

[I'm too lazy to find the meme lol]

🔥 What’s something they’d burn the world down to protect?

In short? Nature, children, and the downtrodden, especially in the case of any of them being mistreated, abused, etc.. We see how he reacts to the refugee situation in Baldur's Gate and the stark contrast to how, without much thought, he took the tiefling refugees in because in his heart and soul that was the right thing to do whereas, in the city, they were turning away people in desperate need who lost their homes to the Absolute cultists and taking advantage of them. How close he is to slipping into a very dark place where his belief system twists to one in which only nature matters, and that civilization and even the people deserve to rot for their corruption. He basically begins to think more like the Shadow Druids who sought to infiltrate the Emerald Grove. He goes from a gentle "nature will reclaim all one day" to the harsh "nature should reclaim this shit right now jfc." It's interesting to consider what he might have done if he wasn't talked down (I know in game it's probably nothing considering the limitations for him as a companion, but it's wild to think about).

But even on a smaller scale, in a more contained situation, if the crime against these entities is egregious enough, if talk or more disruptive measures to the operation isn't enough, this man will rain down nature's fury upon you and whoever is involved. He is very slow to violence, but Silvanus help you if you push him too far. Like...can you imagine if he got back to the Grove and Kahga had completed the Rite and/or killed all the refugees for whatever reason? Is that an ending for the Grove you can even get (like is there a difference between his big angy at Kahga anyway vs. if you like...get caught stealing the idol and they just merc all the refugees and THEN save Halsin?)? BUT MAN. She would not be getting off with a "you're demoted and going to relearn the tenets of the Oak Father" I can tell you that.

😂 What’s the dumbest thing they’ve ever laughed at for way too long?

This is hard because I don't think he's ever thought anything he has laughed at is dumb (and he's old). Something he probably laughed at too hard that at least others would not understand why is probably while reading some druid philosophy book, especially those written by non-druids, and laughing at how wrong they get it. He doesn't necessarily think laughing so hard at it is dumb by any means, but others might see that as not that funny. Also, probably some obscure oddity in nature that he discovered and found enormously funny. Halsin's a nerd, idk what to tell you.

☀️ What’s their happiest childhood memory?

Halsin actually had a happy childhood, I feel, so there are probably many. Meeting and playing with Thaniel feels like a cop out, so I'll go with helping his parents with their occupation (for lack of a better word because they likely did this for free) as healers in the region. On top of all he learned and the desire to help those in need instilled within him, he loved growing and gathering ingredients, learning how to make salves, potions, and how to treat all manner of wounds, traveling with his parents to patients' homes and watching them work their magic (literally and metaphorically speaking, though I haven't decided if his parents had healing magic at all? I'm leaning on no because that could also be a reason Halsin decided to become a druid as well AND focus on healing: he probably saw the limits of traditional healing, how if they could have acted faster and more instantaneously they might have prevented extensive suffering or death). Though it could be difficult at times since they were not always successful, the memories are still very happy for him overall.

🍽️ What meal do they cook when they need to feel like themselves again?

Naoto freezes. It’s not the first time she’s been told that she looks like someone, and she almost jumps at the opportunity to ask him who she resembles - but the look on his face seems to show a bit of vulnerability… so it can’t be that woman whose former name she was cursed with - no, it doesn’t seem like that woman would mean anything to someone like Toji in the first place unless there’s a soft spot she’s unaware of. 

“Is that so?” Naoto murmurs, taking a strand of her hair to rub between her fingers. “Is that a good thing?” 

Toji doesn’t seem to be the kind of man to be privy about opening up about it. But on the off chance that he is… Naoto’s feeling kind towards him and allows him the grounds to. 

Honestly, it's always a bitch and a half to get here. People pay good money to have him even think about slinking outside of densely populated areas, but here he is — doing this shit of his own free will. No, he's not looking into this too hard. There's rocks to avoid and roots eager to catch him slipping for a sprained ankle.