SUNJATA
angel loves to keep me spinning, much too high to see
that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
He’s used to ignoring comments, especially ones made about himself. And he ignores it because whomever the accented voice belongs to doesn’t matter. Not when he hears Danta’s purr of a voice and the Flood lifts his gaze to find the Theocrat, and the tension in his tattooed shoulders loosens some as he straightens. “Thank Frey,” he breathes, before his lightning scarred hand brushes through his hair and rubs at his face, ignoring whatever introduction it is (he hadn’t gotten the name), but he does look over toward the equally tall Ancient at his side with a scarred brow lifted.
No, obviously not the nature one.
Shaking his head he focuses on the Theocrat, twisting a touch so his shoulders and back are more angled toward Astaroth, if only because he doesn’t know who he is and this particular conversation should only truly concern the Maverick. (Unaware that the Maverick’s business was the Butcher’s business, of course).
“I need to send a letter. Or two. And a room.” He sighs, nose wrinkling. “And a place to talk… privately, if we can? I know it’s a lot, sorry.” He twists a little bit more to hide the last portion from the Maverick’s companion, already feeling discomfort from the way the too finely dressed man leans into his space.
As of today couldn’t get any worse.
No, obviously not the nature one.
Shaking his head he focuses on the Theocrat, twisting a touch so his shoulders and back are more angled toward Astaroth, if only because he doesn’t know who he is and this particular conversation should only truly concern the Maverick. (Unaware that the Maverick’s business was the Butcher’s business, of course).
“I need to send a letter. Or two. And a room.” He sighs, nose wrinkling. “And a place to talk… privately, if we can? I know it’s a lot, sorry.” He twists a little bit more to hide the last portion from the Maverick’s companion, already feeling discomfort from the way the too finely dressed man leans into his space.
As of today couldn’t get any worse.
every choice, every lie, demons that he kept inside
angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
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.
