SUNJATA
look who's digging their own grave
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death
“It’s bad, Maea.” He says softly, resigned, because to him, there was nothing worse than being incapable of trusting your own thoughts. When everything you did was solely based on what someone else wanted you to do and having no choice in the matter. It made you a prison in your own body, and while Sunjata isn’t that much of a control freak, he prides himself on at least being himself at the end of the day. Doing what he thought was right.
So he huffs out a little sigh, realizing after a few moments that she’d plunked a grassy little crown on his head as he registers the slight weight, reaching up to brush his fingers across the blades of grass, braided neatly. Snorting softly, he adjusts it so it’s less likely to fall off his head as he looks back over to her with a lopsided smile.
One that grows a touch softer at her question. “I’ve been gardening with him. It’s been… Difficult.” He admits, nose wrinkling before he puffs out a sigh and nods, the crown settled easily in the waves of his dark and grey streaked curls. “We’ve been trying to make.. gardening teams. Obviously I’m not saying come with us if you’re not there yet, but, you could make a team or join up with one.” He hates to admit it, but he’ll sit there awkwardly if he doesn’t. “We need more people willing to go. It can’t just be us all the time.” There’s a glint in his eye that he hides well, but the multitudes of times she’d seen his masks in their shared past would say something clearly.
He’s tired. And he’s worried.
So he huffs out a little sigh, realizing after a few moments that she’d plunked a grassy little crown on his head as he registers the slight weight, reaching up to brush his fingers across the blades of grass, braided neatly. Snorting softly, he adjusts it so it’s less likely to fall off his head as he looks back over to her with a lopsided smile.
One that grows a touch softer at her question. “I’ve been gardening with him. It’s been… Difficult.” He admits, nose wrinkling before he puffs out a sigh and nods, the crown settled easily in the waves of his dark and grey streaked curls. “We’ve been trying to make.. gardening teams. Obviously I’m not saying come with us if you’re not there yet, but, you could make a team or join up with one.” He hates to admit it, but he’ll sit there awkwardly if he doesn’t. “We need more people willing to go. It can’t just be us all the time.” There’s a glint in his eye that he hides well, but the multitudes of times she’d seen his masks in their shared past would say something clearly.
He’s tired. And he’s worried.
look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it
and what will you have left?
and what will you have left?
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.
