no one's coming to save you, swing that sword that you made
There’s a petty part of Sunjata that wishes he had the numbers – wishes he knew just how many Ascended didn’t make it to get the chance to become Ancient. But he doesn’t, so it’s a comment that dies as soon as it comes to the forefront of his mind, humming a soft sound of agreement and reigning himself in before he tells Ronin that there’s only so much healing that can be done to repeated scar tissue injuries. At least, in the Flood’s case. He’s always been a pessimist, but at least before the war he’d had something to hope for. Now he’s a shell that drifts from whim to whim, whatever anyone wanted him to do, he did it. “Maybe.” He says instead, taking another sip of the drink he’d snagged.
As for Safrin, he doesn’t know whether or not she has learned. He’ll never know. Not that it bothers him any – the hell he’d gone through following her had only added to the reason why he didn’t get to spend more time freely with Nate, time he’d never get back. And likewise, he’ll never know about Kamaria either unless someone else asks, and he doesn’t mean for his voice to break when he asks Ronin if he knows.
The apology is met with a soft nod, before he clears his throat again. “Yeah. The House of Midnight.” He offers, in case Ronin needed a name of a place to send a letter to. His shoulders do relax ever so slightly, however, at the idea that both their daughters were together up in the sky, and Sunjata exhales a soft sigh. “I hope so. She’d have loved that.” Even if their last interaction had been detrimental, she was still his daughter, and he wasn’t his fathers son despite how Safrin had designed the careful manipulation of the young woman.
“You don’t have to ask if it doesn’t come up. I do… Pretend that there’s a star up there that’s her anyway.” Even if he glares at the rest of them as if he could grow large enough as a dragon to tear the majority of them down.
As for Safrin, he doesn’t know whether or not she has learned. He’ll never know. Not that it bothers him any – the hell he’d gone through following her had only added to the reason why he didn’t get to spend more time freely with Nate, time he’d never get back. And likewise, he’ll never know about Kamaria either unless someone else asks, and he doesn’t mean for his voice to break when he asks Ronin if he knows.
The apology is met with a soft nod, before he clears his throat again. “Yeah. The House of Midnight.” He offers, in case Ronin needed a name of a place to send a letter to. His shoulders do relax ever so slightly, however, at the idea that both their daughters were together up in the sky, and Sunjata exhales a soft sigh. “I hope so. She’d have loved that.” Even if their last interaction had been detrimental, she was still his daughter, and he wasn’t his fathers son despite how Safrin had designed the careful manipulation of the young woman.
“You don’t have to ask if it doesn’t come up. I do… Pretend that there’s a star up there that’s her anyway.” Even if he glares at the rest of them as if he could grow large enough as a dragon to tear the majority of them down.
the flood
with the pain that they gave you, like the pain is gonna save you
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
