temporary fleeting thrills, keep me bruised and make me ill
my skin has lavender tones
my skin has lavender tones
Snorting to the mention of Safrin and her murderous intent, he winces a little as the smile widens. “Hey, mine too.” Until Ronin’s healing had granted him breath and life, even if his body was still damaged by it. It was somehow worse than when Frey had burned everything of Safrin out of him, when he was uniquely aware of each and every nerve ending to be scrubbed clean of her.
Either way, he nods and flashes that same crooked smile toward Remi, fully intending not to meet that fate (thanks immortality), he cocks his head a little. “Thanks for saving Mel.” He can’t remember if he said it in the moment, but gods if the thought of losing her didn’t burn against the same hollow pit in his gut.
It’s that pit that yawns as he makes his question known, fingertips running along the edge of the glass, steel eyes meeting seafoam. “It’s okay. As long as he got there.” Whether or not anyone else understood, Sunjata did. And with Ronin’s addition, it sparks a soft snort from him as he shrugs a tattooed shoulder and leans back. “Yeah, maybe.” It doesn’t matter, though, not as relief wars with the sudden realization of words spilling from the other two demigods lips, at the unfortunate time that he’s sipping the whiskey.
Nearly choking on it (read, he did choke on it he’s just trying to play it cool even as it tears up his throat), Sunjata’s scarred brows pinch together and he stares between the two of them as the pit of his stomach drops. “I, uh, fuck.” He curses, each and every scar on his body lighting up in a white strike like lightning, setting the glass down and trying desperately to clear his throat and hide his emotions through the attuned bond, but sure that the two demigods would be able to feel the stinging surprise and sharp pit of sorrow. “Uhm, yeah, of course I wanna see her.” He starts to say in case it gives the wrong impression.
“I didn’t know she died.” He admits a bit quieter, muscles feathering in his jaw as he stares at the glass.
Either way, he nods and flashes that same crooked smile toward Remi, fully intending not to meet that fate (thanks immortality), he cocks his head a little. “Thanks for saving Mel.” He can’t remember if he said it in the moment, but gods if the thought of losing her didn’t burn against the same hollow pit in his gut.
It’s that pit that yawns as he makes his question known, fingertips running along the edge of the glass, steel eyes meeting seafoam. “It’s okay. As long as he got there.” Whether or not anyone else understood, Sunjata did. And with Ronin’s addition, it sparks a soft snort from him as he shrugs a tattooed shoulder and leans back. “Yeah, maybe.” It doesn’t matter, though, not as relief wars with the sudden realization of words spilling from the other two demigods lips, at the unfortunate time that he’s sipping the whiskey.
Nearly choking on it (read, he did choke on it he’s just trying to play it cool even as it tears up his throat), Sunjata’s scarred brows pinch together and he stares between the two of them as the pit of his stomach drops. “I, uh, fuck.” He curses, each and every scar on his body lighting up in a white strike like lightning, setting the glass down and trying desperately to clear his throat and hide his emotions through the attuned bond, but sure that the two demigods would be able to feel the stinging surprise and sharp pit of sorrow. “Uhm, yeah, of course I wanna see her.” He starts to say in case it gives the wrong impression.
“I didn’t know she died.” He admits a bit quieter, muscles feathering in his jaw as he stares at the glass.
the flood
tell me i'm a loaded gun, tie me up and come undone
i can cover it up, i can cover it up
i can cover it up, i can cover it up
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
