temporary fleeting thrills, keep me bruised and make me ill
my skin has lavender tones
my skin has lavender tones
“Ahh,” Sunjata says with a soft huff of a laugh, his expression softening as the placating mask slips away into an easier one, shoulders relaxing tenfold. “Sorry about your teacher.” He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but he imagines the apology is welcome either way. Whether or not his hand is, is another story, but it seems to not mind the necromancer much with the soft of course that accompanies his thanks.
Stepping into the room, the Flood finds it quite charming. He’s busy taking it in as he slips out of the dark sweater, left in a tank top that allows for his wings to flare out easier and without restriction. Wings he picks to be the Pegasus wings, flaring in hues of teal, black, and navy blue. One teal primary feather slips out, falling along the floor and isn’t noticed by the Flood as he lets them ruffle a bit before they tuck in tight to begin the process of conserving his warmth, not hiding the gnarly scar that has fucked up the feathers toward where they branch out from his back, when Niki’s voice reaches him from the entrance.
Sunjata hesitates in his approach to the fireplace, turning to shoot Niki a lopsided smile as he takes in the too large button up shirt hiding the other man’s likely gaunt frame. “I don’t want to impose more than I have already. I’ve slept on my wings plenty of times.” He explains, as if to tell the abandoned that he doesn’t need to go and retrieve the pillows and blankets and that he’d be just fine.
In fact, the wings drag against the ground when he kneels to add more wood to the embers in the fireplace, coaxing the fire to grip the dry wood with a few puffs of his breath. Here the full spread of his wing tattoos are seen, the navy matching the middle section of his plumage, stretching down the backs of his arms. “There we go.” Comes the grateful hum as the fire sparks to life, relief still smoothing the lines of tension in his body of not having to spend a night outside around any wandering void again.
Stepping into the room, the Flood finds it quite charming. He’s busy taking it in as he slips out of the dark sweater, left in a tank top that allows for his wings to flare out easier and without restriction. Wings he picks to be the Pegasus wings, flaring in hues of teal, black, and navy blue. One teal primary feather slips out, falling along the floor and isn’t noticed by the Flood as he lets them ruffle a bit before they tuck in tight to begin the process of conserving his warmth, not hiding the gnarly scar that has fucked up the feathers toward where they branch out from his back, when Niki’s voice reaches him from the entrance.
Sunjata hesitates in his approach to the fireplace, turning to shoot Niki a lopsided smile as he takes in the too large button up shirt hiding the other man’s likely gaunt frame. “I don’t want to impose more than I have already. I’ve slept on my wings plenty of times.” He explains, as if to tell the abandoned that he doesn’t need to go and retrieve the pillows and blankets and that he’d be just fine.
In fact, the wings drag against the ground when he kneels to add more wood to the embers in the fireplace, coaxing the fire to grip the dry wood with a few puffs of his breath. Here the full spread of his wing tattoos are seen, the navy matching the middle section of his plumage, stretching down the backs of his arms. “There we go.” Comes the grateful hum as the fire sparks to life, relief still smoothing the lines of tension in his body of not having to spend a night outside around any wandering void again.
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.
