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It’s been quite a long time since Sunday left Penacony, and quite a while since he joined the Stellaron Hunters. He’ll be damned if he said he didn’t take a liking to the highly wanted criminals after a while, despite the tension between him and Firefly.
Kafka felt somewhat like a mother, despite the both of then being at a similar age. She was patient with him when he was hesitant to join at first, keeping herself by his side while keeping her distance. Her serene demeanor paired well with her elegant fighting style, Sunday appreciated her well mannered personality, and often had tea with her.
Blade was.. difficult, to say the least. He had a split personality from what Sunday has seen, often very ‘chill’ (according to Silverwolf) whenever he didn’t see anyone from his past. His fighting style was well refined and his blade is sure to bring death upon his opponents. Whenever he wasn’t crazed, Sunday would try to make small talk, and always appreciated Blades concise answers.
Silverwolf was an energetic child, Sunday thinks. He was paired with her the first time he went on a mission, and they spray painted each others logos as a mark of the Stellaron Hunters being there. Silverwolf painted her iconic wolf logo while Sunday made one up on the spot, Enas eye with wings covering it. He likes her blunt yet fun personality, treating her fights like games, it was fun to watch.
Firefly.. he hasn’t had much of a relationship with her due to their past interactions, but the tension in the air between them had lightened up a little. He knows she tries to be polite with him, but he often just tells her that she can leave the politeness behind, he’s had worse interactions in the past anyway. Although Firefly herself wasn’t the one fighting, Sunday found it fascinating to watch SAM in action. He also finds out that she had Entropy Loss Syndrome, and wishes that she can live her life to the fullest before she disappears.
Elio is a cheeky piece of shit, Sunday thinks, often messing with him whenever he can in the scripts. But he admires Elios abilities, not much to say.
..That said, Sunday hasn’t built up enough trust nor confidence to ask for something personal. But it was getting to him, so he was going to have to ask at some point. Thankfully, it’s just Kafka at their current hiding spot (which was an apartment at a planet Sunday didn’t get the name of.)
He walks into the room where Kafka practices her violin, and he waits by the doorframe. Kafka takes notice of his presence and stops playing, turning her attention towards him with a smile on her face.
“Need anything, Angel?”
She inquiries, the nickname naturally rolling off her tongue as if she has known him all his life.
“I.. need help with something, if you’re not busy, that is.”
He says in a polite tone, silently hoping she’d say yes and forgets he even asked, which she didn’t, of course.
“Sure, not like I’m doing anything anyway, what do you need?”
She said as she took a seat on the leather couch, crossing her legs and patting the space beside her, signaling him to sit beside her. Sunday does, and takes a seat beside Kafka, subconsciously fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve.
“This is a bit of a strange request, so I apologize for the sudden request.”
He starts off, Kafka stays silent so he takes it as a sign to keep talking.
“Are you.. familiar with the concept of ‘preening’?”
He swears he heard her breathing hitch at that, before she chuckles, her voice endearing and amused.
“Yes, I am, do you need help with that?”
The embarrassed flush on Sundays cheeks was enough to tell her that he does, indeed, need help. In silence, Sunday stands up to take his coat off, hesitating for a little before fully taking it off, letting the dark wings on his back free. It’s been so long since he last let them free, he almost forgot the sharp cuts that lined what was supposed to be normally shaped wings.
“Your wings..”
Kafka starts, and Sunday immediately tenses up, waiting for her to say something about his clipped wings.
“..they’re beautiful.”
She says softly, and Sunday feels the tension leaving his body at her words. He thanks her and sits back down on the couch, neatly folding his coat and sets it on the table. Not sure how to start, he simply reaches for a pin on his wing and carefully crushes the keratin case. Kafka joins in shortly, copying Sundays actions and tending to the encased feathers.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, Kafka gently brushing the flakes of keratin off his wings, and by this time, Sunday gets a little impatient.
“..aren’t you going to ask?”
He inquiries, his brows slightly knitting together, a small frown forming on his lips.
“Ask what?”
“My wings, aren’t you curious?”
Kafka hums thoughtfully, stopping for a second before continuing.
“I am, but I think it’s better to stay quiet this time, you don’t seem like you want to talk about it.”
Kafka looks up and sees Sundays head wings flutter a little, a light chuckle escaping her lips at his reaction to her words.
“..thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Angel.”
—
Blade and Silverwolf come back to the apartment and sits down on the couch, Silverwolf looks down and sees white flakes on the leather.
“..why the fuck is there dandruff on the couch?”