// ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not //
some have names but most do not //
Honestly, had not so much happened in the past years, he likely would be a similar man to who he was – flirtatious and playful, willing to dive in with whomever offered their bed. But then Nate had died and he’d been unaware, unable and incapable of using it as a distraction with how far down he hated himself, finding comfort in the bottle and too many cigarettes a day, holing himself away in the refuge until he was forced to come out.
Which, truthfully, doesn’t bode too well for a man who’s supposed to be a walking billboard for the sex god. He supposes, at least, that now with the healing he’s undergone and the connection with Hotaru, that he can balance both with how he is listed on the options for the House of Midnight, but a packaged deal with Hotaru alongside. A mix of both to sate both who he’s become as well as who he’s supposed to be.
“You’re welcome.” He rumbles softly, taking Petronella from Maea to slip her back onto his shoulders, her paws pressing in against his bicep as she stretches and he moves to stand again, straightening out his shirt and clothes. Her next question has his gaze lifting toward her, shaking his head before he rubs at the side of his face where the scar puckers the most. “Not long. Just came to help where I could. I’m sure the House of Midnight probably needs a bit of help since I’ve been gone.” The brothel he runs, having given them instruction for a certain amount of time before he needs to return to continue the efforts of helping those displaced by the flooding.
Which, truthfully, doesn’t bode too well for a man who’s supposed to be a walking billboard for the sex god. He supposes, at least, that now with the healing he’s undergone and the connection with Hotaru, that he can balance both with how he is listed on the options for the House of Midnight, but a packaged deal with Hotaru alongside. A mix of both to sate both who he’s become as well as who he’s supposed to be.
“You’re welcome.” He rumbles softly, taking Petronella from Maea to slip her back onto his shoulders, her paws pressing in against his bicep as she stretches and he moves to stand again, straightening out his shirt and clothes. Her next question has his gaze lifting toward her, shaking his head before he rubs at the side of his face where the scar puckers the most. “Not long. Just came to help where I could. I’m sure the House of Midnight probably needs a bit of help since I’ve been gone.” The brothel he runs, having given them instruction for a certain amount of time before he needs to return to continue the efforts of helping those displaced by the flooding.
the flood
// if you find one, please,
let me know what piece i've lost //
let me know what piece i've lost //
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.
