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 doesn’t judge how long it takes Danta to read the message. Nor does he even really pay attention to how long it is to judge in the first place. And so when the question comes, there’s a slight flinch, a twitch that has navy feathers flaring as he reflects the memory. “It’s.. she has like, ten eyes and too many teeth in all the wrong places. It’s just..” His nose wrinkles before he puffs out a sigh that has him settling to chew on his cheek, some.
“I can see it sometimes in my reflection, too. It’s… bad.” Mortifying, if he’s being honest. So he busies himself with washing away the evidence of the parchment, focusing on the boon of Danta and his beau, as if it would work to be an adequate distraction as he writes out the letter to Remi and Ronin, before handing it to the Maverick to finish up sending. “Y’know, that's what they all say.” Comes the idle tease, a shade of playfulness of how he typically was, a mask for all intents and purposes.
Reaching out to scratch Moira’s feathery chest in a quiet appreciation, the hand flies to his hair to smooth through the waves there, spending a moment to collect himself and suck back in all the feathers of his own that have popped up. “Honestly? A drink and bed to sleep on where I might be able to pretend I’m not as shitty as I feel would be a good start.” It’s a fake twist of a smile directed at Danta as the Flood stands, fixing the sweater (now stained on his sleeve), before he shrugs at the Maverick with no more of an explanation.
“I can see it sometimes in my reflection, too. It’s… bad.” Mortifying, if he’s being honest. So he busies himself with washing away the evidence of the parchment, focusing on the boon of Danta and his beau, as if it would work to be an adequate distraction as he writes out the letter to Remi and Ronin, before handing it to the Maverick to finish up sending. “Y’know, that's what they all say.” Comes the idle tease, a shade of playfulness of how he typically was, a mask for all intents and purposes.
Reaching out to scratch Moira’s feathery chest in a quiet appreciation, the hand flies to his hair to smooth through the waves there, spending a moment to collect himself and suck back in all the feathers of his own that have popped up. “Honestly? A drink and bed to sleep on where I might be able to pretend I’m not as shitty as I feel would be a good start.” It’s a fake twist of a smile directed at Danta as the Flood stands, fixing the sweater (now stained on his sleeve), before he shrugs at the Maverick with no more of an explanation.
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.
