SUNJATA
i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring
and meeting all my vices in the ring
In the Greatwood, before the trek to Torchline and the unique advancements made, the Flood wanders through the trees and pathways in search of roses — just on the off chance something came up, though the more he searched the less his hopes grew. So he is aimless, wandering, while the sentient trees of the Greatwood play with his attempts to get back toward the Village.
Not that he was complaining too much, all it took was a change of shape for him to rise high above the treetops to find some sort of civilization.
At the present moment, though, gaze stuck along the underbrush and the base of the trees, he hears a twig snap — looking up in the direction of it against his better judgement (given his penchant for seeing the true void, that is), but is relieved to find that the figure doesn’t harbor tentacles or melting skin or too many eyes in places that eyes should definitely not be.
And while that was great news, he hadn’t meant to interrupt. “Shit, sorry.” Comes the chuckle, Frey’s demigod twisting so that he isn’t facing Iskra so he can finish his business. But he hasn’t wanted to startle him, so he’d announced his presence. One tattooed arm crosses over his lightning scarred one, steps careful as he peruses for a rose, trying to pass through without causing too much of a surprise for the stranger.
Not that he was complaining too much, all it took was a change of shape for him to rise high above the treetops to find some sort of civilization.
At the present moment, though, gaze stuck along the underbrush and the base of the trees, he hears a twig snap — looking up in the direction of it against his better judgement (given his penchant for seeing the true void, that is), but is relieved to find that the figure doesn’t harbor tentacles or melting skin or too many eyes in places that eyes should definitely not be.
And while that was great news, he hadn’t meant to interrupt. “Shit, sorry.” Comes the chuckle, Frey’s demigod twisting so that he isn’t facing Iskra so he can finish his business. But he hasn’t wanted to startle him, so he’d announced his presence. One tattooed arm crosses over his lightning scarred one, steps careful as he peruses for a rose, trying to pass through without causing too much of a surprise for the stranger.
so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me
there ain't a casket strong enough for me
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.
