SUNJATA
look who's digging their own grave
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death
“I think that’s immensely impractical.” He immediately states, content with being too tall and lanky despite what he does – but at least he’s gotten past the part of malnourishment. He’s filled out, looks better and healthier, even if he’s still a bit lanky, and the muscles that linger beneath the clothes he wears certainly adds to the factor of his strength.
To hear her agree, however, is something that causes him to nod – Sunjata knew a lot of people, but it was mostly the fact that he barely had any good interactions with them over the time leading up to the war was the main crux of his issues of reconnecting. “It did.” He decides to say instead, though he didn’t miss the attention, he missed the surprising warmth people had toward him. It was an unusual feeling, truth be told.
He doesn’t know what he expects her to say when he tells her, but he remains watching her as her hand comes to cover over his own, mind flickering back toward the night in Torchline, unsure whether or not it would be a good idea to bring it up in the first place again, after she’d told him not to read into it. He had. So he squeezes her hand, takes a deep breath and nods. “I… Told Hotaru what we talked about.” The initial time he’d picked her up to take her to the Inn, that perhaps he shouldn’t let himself become as much of a hermit as he has. That maybe he should tell her how he feels. “And we’re going to start over our friendship and see where it goes.” Friendship was the key word, because the two of them had grown smarter with it, that they knew they needed to work things out before it was possible to ever try to be with each other again.
Growth, right? Instead of impulsively diving in head first, he’s contemplative and taking his time making these decisions.
To hear her agree, however, is something that causes him to nod – Sunjata knew a lot of people, but it was mostly the fact that he barely had any good interactions with them over the time leading up to the war was the main crux of his issues of reconnecting. “It did.” He decides to say instead, though he didn’t miss the attention, he missed the surprising warmth people had toward him. It was an unusual feeling, truth be told.
He doesn’t know what he expects her to say when he tells her, but he remains watching her as her hand comes to cover over his own, mind flickering back toward the night in Torchline, unsure whether or not it would be a good idea to bring it up in the first place again, after she’d told him not to read into it. He had. So he squeezes her hand, takes a deep breath and nods. “I… Told Hotaru what we talked about.” The initial time he’d picked her up to take her to the Inn, that perhaps he shouldn’t let himself become as much of a hermit as he has. That maybe he should tell her how he feels. “And we’re going to start over our friendship and see where it goes.” Friendship was the key word, because the two of them had grown smarter with it, that they knew they needed to work things out before it was possible to ever try to be with each other again.
Growth, right? Instead of impulsively diving in head first, he’s contemplative and taking his time making these decisions.
look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it
and what will you have left?
and what will you have left?
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.
