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Summary
Jabber Wonger's past experiences with divinity were bitter at their sweetest and crippling at their worst.
His refuge? Poisons and drugs. A stark contrast to the faiths worshipped by both those of the ground and sphere.
And yet his hand's can cradle a body as passionately as they can destroy the skin of those unable to live up to the expectations he sets within fights, his expression of love confined to that of the rooms rented beneath the stars hanging above a world of secrecy. A twilight painfully aware of his questioning towards how much keeping this secret was worth, and how much he overthinks taking things into his own hands against Zanka's words.
He doesn't mind fighting for the same love others can flaunt - but this Raider vs Cleaner bullshit shouldn't prevent a relationship that's so much more than that in the comfort of secrecy.
He didn't mind fighting for the same love others can flaunt.