now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat
it's a bearable bruise on your conscious
He’s never once seen her like this. Staring at the floor, dejected and rejected, like she’d just heard the worst news of her life. And having absolutely zero context for what the fuck occurred, all he can do is offer his presence. And he really, truly, doesn’t expect it to hit home as much as it does when she surges into him.
She collides with him and it freezes him initially, surprise flaring through him in the glint of lightning through his scars, illuminating even under his shirt when he finally wraps his arms around her. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He murmurs quietly, nodding to the assistant that had helped bring her here and then starts to pull her into the room.
He doesn’t know what she wants it to be, truthfully, but he uses his heel to kick back the door until he can hear it latch, forcing the room to take a new and unique shape she’s likely never seen. The room becomes the main room of a cabin, with fog and a sunrise on a landscape she’d never recognize even if she scoured each and every space Caido had to offer.
It’s Korofi, truth be told. The cabin his mother would take him and his sister to on occasion to escape their shitty father. And it’s perhaps one of the most comfortable places Sunjata knows these days that doesn’t harbor any bad memories. It’s of a time long before now, when he was decades younger — when he wasn’t a murderer and he still had hope glinting in his gaze.
He guides her to the rough and worn couch, the texture a variety of different canvases in varied colors of dark blue and green intermixed with random cream stripes. He sits down onto it with her, keeping her in his arms and allowing her the privacy to cry more if she needs to, or to give her a warm space to press into that wouldn’t judge or question it. His shirt is already damp but he doesn’t mind, he is the man with the moniker of water, after all. “How can I help?” He asks after a moment of making sure she’s settled, conjuring water in a glass set on the coffee table for her if she needs something else to swallow than the sorrow and her pride.
She collides with him and it freezes him initially, surprise flaring through him in the glint of lightning through his scars, illuminating even under his shirt when he finally wraps his arms around her. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He murmurs quietly, nodding to the assistant that had helped bring her here and then starts to pull her into the room.
He doesn’t know what she wants it to be, truthfully, but he uses his heel to kick back the door until he can hear it latch, forcing the room to take a new and unique shape she’s likely never seen. The room becomes the main room of a cabin, with fog and a sunrise on a landscape she’d never recognize even if she scoured each and every space Caido had to offer.
It’s Korofi, truth be told. The cabin his mother would take him and his sister to on occasion to escape their shitty father. And it’s perhaps one of the most comfortable places Sunjata knows these days that doesn’t harbor any bad memories. It’s of a time long before now, when he was decades younger — when he wasn’t a murderer and he still had hope glinting in his gaze.
He guides her to the rough and worn couch, the texture a variety of different canvases in varied colors of dark blue and green intermixed with random cream stripes. He sits down onto it with her, keeping her in his arms and allowing her the privacy to cry more if she needs to, or to give her a warm space to press into that wouldn’t judge or question it. His shirt is already damp but he doesn’t mind, he is the man with the moniker of water, after all. “How can I help?” He asks after a moment of making sure she’s settled, conjuring water in a glass set on the coffee table for her if she needs something else to swallow than the sorrow and her pride.
but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?
i am the way and the life in the best looking truth
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.
