// it's not enough that you're wrestling yourself
but your friends talk shit while you're going through hell //
but your friends talk shit while you're going through hell //
It’s been far too long. At first, the voice sounds like a ghost. A memory. Something that isn’t real and something he doesn’t trust crashing through the underbrush of his soul. It’s heart wrenching enough that he ignores it at first, until he hears the clattering of objects in the home — their home, that proves it isn’t just a memory coming back to haunt him.
He’s disheveled, already on edge in the form of the dragon scales that blot out the majority of his scars that coat his shoulders. It’s hot, too hot, and yet he wears this shift’s scales like armor that cover his chest all the way up to cover his neck. And the dark wings with the taloned fork on top move with the slight ruffling of his wings when he emerges from their room — a space he’s had to make decidedly his in the recent months lest he lose himself completely.
“Ru?” He calls out, stilling immediately when he sees her and the dragon clinging to her throat, the blood. Even Petronella realizes something’s wrong with the way she remains in the bed in the corner of the room Sunjata’s just come from.
There’s so many questions that flash through his mind, the apprehension, the uncertainty, the hurt and anger that bloom a fraction of a second before he puts up his mental walls, trying to hide the worst of it. The questions continue to flash through in the silence and the increase of his heartbeat — where were you? Why didn’t you tell me? What took so long? What the fuck is that? — and in the end settles for the immediate reserved attempt to keep his hurt at bay though it’s very clear in the storm of his eyes. “What happened?” He settles on instead, jaw set until he can feel his teeth creak, the muscles feathering in his temple.
He’s disheveled, already on edge in the form of the dragon scales that blot out the majority of his scars that coat his shoulders. It’s hot, too hot, and yet he wears this shift’s scales like armor that cover his chest all the way up to cover his neck. And the dark wings with the taloned fork on top move with the slight ruffling of his wings when he emerges from their room — a space he’s had to make decidedly his in the recent months lest he lose himself completely.
“Ru?” He calls out, stilling immediately when he sees her and the dragon clinging to her throat, the blood. Even Petronella realizes something’s wrong with the way she remains in the bed in the corner of the room Sunjata’s just come from.
There’s so many questions that flash through his mind, the apprehension, the uncertainty, the hurt and anger that bloom a fraction of a second before he puts up his mental walls, trying to hide the worst of it. The questions continue to flash through in the silence and the increase of his heartbeat — where were you? Why didn’t you tell me? What took so long? What the fuck is that? — and in the end settles for the immediate reserved attempt to keep his hurt at bay though it’s very clear in the storm of his eyes. “What happened?” He settles on instead, jaw set until he can feel his teeth creak, the muscles feathering in his temple.
// you said it feels like you're swimming through mercury
and every night you think you're gonna die in your sleep //
and every night you think you're gonna die in your sleep //
SUNJATA
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.
