// 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 //
He knows her well enough to see the confusion and the flare of upset that leaks through her – and there’s a selfish part of himself that thinks good, that maybe the shock of all of this might hurt as much as her departure hurt him. He’d only expected it to be a few days, too, and here they were – weeks, months later. It’s a pain that resonates, that glimmers in the pit of his stomach like a churning mess.
”Did any of you ask Frey?” She asks and he straightens up, those mental walls hardening as he keeps the bitterness from seeping out. Her asking him a question in regards to it has him even more confused. He, too, was Frey’s chosen. Why wouldn’t he have asked Frey? “We did. They said you were fine. And Flora tried to channel you but it didn't work.” Which makes sense now in hindsight – but before that it was just as confusing as hearing she was fine and still being unable to see her.
It felt like a sharp slap to the face, the kind that hurts in ways that Sunjata isn’t sure how to express – his lack of verbal skills far more evident when he’s emotional – and gods, is he emotional right now. It’s precisely why he glares at the dragon and why Petronella hasn’t slipped over to say hello – choosing the corner of the home for comfort rather than pain.
“But?!” Sunjata cuts in, having sworn he wouldn’t do it anymore but finding himself unable to stop it. He steps back, reaching up to rub at his face and try to get his thoughts in order. “I get it. And I’m sorry that it happened and that it was just a few days. I--” He pauses, hands falling from his face as he glances out the window to see the dreambird perched on a branch of a tree by the window. It’s almost like it’s the distraction he needs to get the words out. “I meant it.” He says quietly, jaw working as he tries to fight over the words that he never thought would leave his lips. “I can’t do this. I… Where’s my Heart?” He asks, like it’s clear he doesn’t have him in it right now to argue it out. That he wanted the space, needed the space, because there was a difference in truly knowing you were alone versus harboring the false hope that Sunjata had the majority of his life that they'd come home.
It's clear, now, that he's a curse. That those that get close to him do perish one way or another, immortality be damned.
”Did any of you ask Frey?” She asks and he straightens up, those mental walls hardening as he keeps the bitterness from seeping out. Her asking him a question in regards to it has him even more confused. He, too, was Frey’s chosen. Why wouldn’t he have asked Frey? “We did. They said you were fine. And Flora tried to channel you but it didn't work.” Which makes sense now in hindsight – but before that it was just as confusing as hearing she was fine and still being unable to see her.
It felt like a sharp slap to the face, the kind that hurts in ways that Sunjata isn’t sure how to express – his lack of verbal skills far more evident when he’s emotional – and gods, is he emotional right now. It’s precisely why he glares at the dragon and why Petronella hasn’t slipped over to say hello – choosing the corner of the home for comfort rather than pain.
“But?!” Sunjata cuts in, having sworn he wouldn’t do it anymore but finding himself unable to stop it. He steps back, reaching up to rub at his face and try to get his thoughts in order. “I get it. And I’m sorry that it happened and that it was just a few days. I--” He pauses, hands falling from his face as he glances out the window to see the dreambird perched on a branch of a tree by the window. It’s almost like it’s the distraction he needs to get the words out. “I meant it.” He says quietly, jaw working as he tries to fight over the words that he never thought would leave his lips. “I can’t do this. I… Where’s my Heart?” He asks, like it’s clear he doesn’t have him in it right now to argue it out. That he wanted the space, needed the space, because there was a difference in truly knowing you were alone versus harboring the false hope that Sunjata had the majority of his life that they'd come home.
It's clear, now, that he's a curse. That those that get close to him do perish one way or another, immortality be damned.
// 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.
