SUNJATA
the flood
'cause my life is like a bedroom door
don't lead me in when you feel low
don't lead me in when you feel low
“Yeah, I get that.” Sunjata hums softly, lips settling into an easy and crookedly boyish smile as she leads the way, the Flood following her easily with his long strides. He takes in the Temple as they go, what changes have been made, and if he’s being honest? It looks nice. Lived in and cared for in a way that the previous temple had only held reflections of.
At the ornate doors is where he pauses when she pushes it open, taking in the scene before him decked with pretty flowers that he isn’t sure whether or not are supposed to be pretty or menacing (or both?) but the explanation has him nodding his head, deciding that was probably a good way to end fights, if whatever happened inside was undone.
He can’t lie and say he doesn’t perk up with the mention of alcohol, though, and he does glance over his shoulder as if he might be able to spot the little bar for it. “Sounds like a room for everything then, huh?” Sunjata says behind the chuckle as he looks back toward the petite blonde, only to see her dart! from the bar he’d been seeking out, to sitting atop the slab of stone that looks as ominous as it does welcoming.
The flush that floods his cheeks and the tips of his ears has him immediately warm, snorting under his breath as he takes the steps to the little bar to start. “He did, didn’t he.” He says wearily, shaking his head before he pops open a bottle of the strongest they have on tap and pouring a decent amount into a glass nearby. It’s not enough to do much of anything to him, but it’s a start. The lightness of his limbs might be a nice place to start this off with. And so he downs it without any issues whatsoever, focusing his attention back on Charlie and thinking about Hotaru and how she’s still lost (timelines ??) and how she would, likely, understand.
It’s been ages since he’s been able to cope like this anyway, having been burnt the last time he’d tried. So maybe… just maybe, it wouldn’t be terrible to try again.
His steps bring him to the slab of stone she sits atop, reverting to a version of himself that’s far more Frey these days than it is himself, and he plants both hands on either side of the petite blonde when he leans in, smelling of liquor and whatever else it was Charlie fancied. “It’s been awhile since I’ve done this as a distraction. Forgive me if I’m rusty?” The question is aired on a deeper, rougher accent, scarred face quirking with the light roguish smirk that blossoms, giving her the final decision of whether or not to give in or pull away.
At the ornate doors is where he pauses when she pushes it open, taking in the scene before him decked with pretty flowers that he isn’t sure whether or not are supposed to be pretty or menacing (or both?) but the explanation has him nodding his head, deciding that was probably a good way to end fights, if whatever happened inside was undone.
He can’t lie and say he doesn’t perk up with the mention of alcohol, though, and he does glance over his shoulder as if he might be able to spot the little bar for it. “Sounds like a room for everything then, huh?” Sunjata says behind the chuckle as he looks back toward the petite blonde, only to see her dart! from the bar he’d been seeking out, to sitting atop the slab of stone that looks as ominous as it does welcoming.
The flush that floods his cheeks and the tips of his ears has him immediately warm, snorting under his breath as he takes the steps to the little bar to start. “He did, didn’t he.” He says wearily, shaking his head before he pops open a bottle of the strongest they have on tap and pouring a decent amount into a glass nearby. It’s not enough to do much of anything to him, but it’s a start. The lightness of his limbs might be a nice place to start this off with. And so he downs it without any issues whatsoever, focusing his attention back on Charlie and thinking about Hotaru and how she’s still lost (timelines ??) and how she would, likely, understand.
It’s been ages since he’s been able to cope like this anyway, having been burnt the last time he’d tried. So maybe… just maybe, it wouldn’t be terrible to try again.
His steps bring him to the slab of stone she sits atop, reverting to a version of himself that’s far more Frey these days than it is himself, and he plants both hands on either side of the petite blonde when he leans in, smelling of liquor and whatever else it was Charlie fancied. “It’s been awhile since I’ve done this as a distraction. Forgive me if I’m rusty?” The question is aired on a deeper, rougher accent, scarred face quirking with the light roguish smirk that blossoms, giving her the final decision of whether or not to give in or pull away.
'cause i might make a move
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.
