/// when we crawled out of the ocean
It is entirely theory and conjecture, and Sunjata might be worried about that if it weren’t for the calm and relatively collected sensation his heart harbors. He feels fine, so surely that’s good enough, right? He hadn’t even known that he was infected. Yet here he is, walking and mingling and doing everything perfectly normal. “It does. Provided it does anything.” Sunjata shrugs lightly – not that he can even consider doing something against the Family or Dahlia in particular. The thought leaves him uncomfortable, a black streak burning in his stomach as he thinks about it.
Shaking out of it to give into the kiss and allowing her desperation for what it is (because wow holy shit, what a ball to drop on someone), he pulses with so much more love and admiration for her, his scars thrumming with a light hue that nearly matches his heartbeat with how they pulse. “We will, liefde.” He vows, because they have to, right? He’s immortal and she will be at some point and that’s all he can ask for. Safety in knowing that she would be okay.
Because he certainly could not do it again. Nor does he think she could if the opposite were to occur. But those thoughts dampen the mood and he presses into the kiss softer this time, shifting to sit up on the bed and pull her in against his tattooed and scarred body. “I think whether or not I start feeling bad? Sick or aggressive, perhaps?” His nose scrunches with the thought and the sigh that escapes him. “I haven’t changed like the creatures have in terms of violence, so…” His head tilts a little to press against her crown, before he reluctantly releases her to tug off his shoes.
Shaking out of it to give into the kiss and allowing her desperation for what it is (because wow holy shit, what a ball to drop on someone), he pulses with so much more love and admiration for her, his scars thrumming with a light hue that nearly matches his heartbeat with how they pulse. “We will, liefde.” He vows, because they have to, right? He’s immortal and she will be at some point and that’s all he can ask for. Safety in knowing that she would be okay.
Because he certainly could not do it again. Nor does he think she could if the opposite were to occur. But those thoughts dampen the mood and he presses into the kiss softer this time, shifting to sit up on the bed and pull her in against his tattooed and scarred body. “I think whether or not I start feeling bad? Sick or aggressive, perhaps?” His nose scrunches with the thought and the sigh that escapes him. “I haven’t changed like the creatures have in terms of violence, so…” His head tilts a little to press against her crown, before he reluctantly releases her to tug off his shoes.
the flood
nothing was good and everything was in between ///
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.
