SUNJATA
the flood
there was a moment, a hole opened in the sky
a chance to join that pantheon
a chance to join that pantheon
It’s a strange combination for Sunjata – to speak with a deity and not have to feel like he’s on occasion. That he can sit there, languidly along the branch like that feline shift in his soul wishes so badly to do. The way Frey regards him, the way that the conversation flows so easily despite how twisted and knotted Sunjata’s become inside makes him relax, makes his gaze linger on Frey from below him, on bright blue eyes and a tangle of dark curls and bronzed skin as he shifts slightly to prop his head up on his arm a bit easier.
It was the meddling and the potential punishment for the choices he could make that he disliked the most about being one of Safrin’s, but Frey is right in the long run and he hums a small sound from his throat. The idea in and of itself sparks through the self wallowing of the Flood, a laugh leaving him as a smile soon tugs at the corners of his lips. “I should have. I guess what actually happened couldn’t have been worse.” He shrugs a shoulder as if it wouldn’t have made a difference.
But there’s some solace in the fact that it had been his choices that brought him there and not the fact that Frey suddenly loathed him that has the Flood drawing up, shifting to the macaw shift to drop down to the branch Frey lounges on, before shifting back into himself in a small bold act of getting closer, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the branch, his hands keeping him in place. “That makes sense.” He begins, working his jaw slightly as if trying to push himself to unmask the words that linger on his tongue. “I’m sorry. I just, after everything with Safrin I just kind of assumed that you were disappointed in me and that’s why you didn’t come.” After all, Safrin had a terribly beautiful way of knowing just how to dig the knife in.
“She knows how to dig at me.” To this he lifts his gaze, breath catching in his throat as he meets Frey full on, keeping his flushing skin to himself at the closeness.
It was the meddling and the potential punishment for the choices he could make that he disliked the most about being one of Safrin’s, but Frey is right in the long run and he hums a small sound from his throat. The idea in and of itself sparks through the self wallowing of the Flood, a laugh leaving him as a smile soon tugs at the corners of his lips. “I should have. I guess what actually happened couldn’t have been worse.” He shrugs a shoulder as if it wouldn’t have made a difference.
But there’s some solace in the fact that it had been his choices that brought him there and not the fact that Frey suddenly loathed him that has the Flood drawing up, shifting to the macaw shift to drop down to the branch Frey lounges on, before shifting back into himself in a small bold act of getting closer, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the branch, his hands keeping him in place. “That makes sense.” He begins, working his jaw slightly as if trying to push himself to unmask the words that linger on his tongue. “I’m sorry. I just, after everything with Safrin I just kind of assumed that you were disappointed in me and that’s why you didn’t come.” After all, Safrin had a terribly beautiful way of knowing just how to dig the knife in.
“She knows how to dig at me.” To this he lifts his gaze, breath catching in his throat as he meets Frey full on, keeping his flushing skin to himself at the closeness.
for all the times they never heard your battlecry
now be an angel, sing along
now be an angel, sing along
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.
