SUNJATA
angel loves to keep me spinning, much too high to see
that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
There’s always been a love hate relationship for Sunjata when it comes to LongNight. His first LongNight here, Lusea had returned. He’d also helped burn down the old bar. The next, he’d spent it in Torchline, away from the monsters but with its own set of traumas. Eventually, it had turned into one of the years Nate left to help rid the Grounds of the monsters, been kidnapped by his father shortly after that, only to be rounded out by a good LongNight before he was gone forever.
So maybe, just maybe, Sunjata’s hiding himself away, trying to ignore the majority of everything else. It helps with Isla here, but the wood still creaks and he can see the Luxere in the dark, glowing, thriving amongst the snow.
He’s focused intently on getting the bed situated and the desk on the opposite side, and when Isla steps up the stairs, she’ll find him tucking the last of the blankets for the bed on top of it, aglow by the lanterns in the room, revealing a small sheen of sweat from the work he’s put in.
So used to the Refuge, he doesn’t harbor a hold on his shifts, and with it the spiral of horns extends from his skull, curling around his ears from his dragon shift, the only indication of his awkward discomfort around the season. “Look’s livable.” His accented voice rumbles as his gaze lifts to her and offers a small smile. “How’s the clinic coming along?”
So maybe, just maybe, Sunjata’s hiding himself away, trying to ignore the majority of everything else. It helps with Isla here, but the wood still creaks and he can see the Luxere in the dark, glowing, thriving amongst the snow.
He’s focused intently on getting the bed situated and the desk on the opposite side, and when Isla steps up the stairs, she’ll find him tucking the last of the blankets for the bed on top of it, aglow by the lanterns in the room, revealing a small sheen of sweat from the work he’s put in.
So used to the Refuge, he doesn’t harbor a hold on his shifts, and with it the spiral of horns extends from his skull, curling around his ears from his dragon shift, the only indication of his awkward discomfort around the season. “Look’s livable.” His accented voice rumbles as his gaze lifts to her and offers a small smile. “How’s the clinic coming along?”
every choice, every lie, demons that he kept inside
angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
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.
