now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat
it's a bearable bruise on your conscious
Quaint is a good word for it – rather than the fact he’d essentially abandoned it for the heady warmth of the House of Midnight where he could utilize his shifts to whoever wished to look upon him. Here, though, he was as basic as anyone else – despite having the strength to back it up. No magic, no shifts, no nothing. Though, he supposes, it helped bolster his self destructive behavior in a way.
Her question as she heads in is met with a soft laugh, a shake of his head. “No. Despite how hard my father tried to make me believe I was.” He shrugs, and as she asks if he feels like it now, he can’t help but to be honest with that too. “Still don’t, even now.” Because if he was a god, he imagines he’d be able to get away with worrying about things far less than he does now.
Even if he was technically a half god, given his demigod status. She makes herself comfortable, though, and Sunjata collects the glasses and drifts into her space at the first barrel, drawing from the tap, deep amber liquid spills into each of their glasses, the smokey robust sense of whiskey but with an underline of something else. A cinnamon and apple blend that he gets a good waft of as he hands her glass to her. “They’re mostly tests, but, I wanted something refreshing and lighter from the maple one I’m a fan of.” He flashes her an easy smile, face framed with more freckles than had been there when they’d first met. “Let’s see if you can guess what’s in this one.” A game of sorts.
Her question as she heads in is met with a soft laugh, a shake of his head. “No. Despite how hard my father tried to make me believe I was.” He shrugs, and as she asks if he feels like it now, he can’t help but to be honest with that too. “Still don’t, even now.” Because if he was a god, he imagines he’d be able to get away with worrying about things far less than he does now.
Even if he was technically a half god, given his demigod status. She makes herself comfortable, though, and Sunjata collects the glasses and drifts into her space at the first barrel, drawing from the tap, deep amber liquid spills into each of their glasses, the smokey robust sense of whiskey but with an underline of something else. A cinnamon and apple blend that he gets a good waft of as he hands her glass to her. “They’re mostly tests, but, I wanted something refreshing and lighter from the maple one I’m a fan of.” He flashes her an easy smile, face framed with more freckles than had been there when they’d first met. “Let’s see if you can guess what’s in this one.” A game of sorts.
but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?
i am the way and the life in the best looking truth
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.
