// grass stains cut my bloody knees, it's goodpain, it means i can't be phased
that little death inside my sides, won't make it right //
that little death inside my sides, won't make it right //
“Thanks.” He says in terms of Iskra’s compliment of the room. Settling in for the story, though, he makes his drink as strong as he can despite knowing it’ll only barely give him a buzz at best if he’s lucky, before he descends into the commentary of what otherwise would have been a standard off side comment about how Hotaru still hadn’t been found, lost to the mists and impossible to find.
It isn’t what leaves his lips, though, and an apologetic smile is shot toward Iskra as he seemingly does his best to choke quietly on his drink. Sunjata snags an empty glass and fills it with cool water and hands to him with a small “sorry,” before he’s listening to Melita’s suggestion, causing him to shrug his tattooed shoulders. “Yeah, I don’t know.” He sighs, rubbing at his face. “That’s not like.. the biggest thing, though. I gave her my heart, remember?” Back before he was infected, ensuring that his love wouldn’t stray because of how it had in the past.
He waits for her confirmation and any explanation she might need to give to Iskra in the process, before he takes a seat at the table with the drink and a plate of food that he pokes around with a fork before continuing. “She put it in her pocket dimension to keep it safe, I guess, but it’s dead now. I can’t feel anything.” His nose wrinkles and he looks up, steel grey eyes flitting between Melita’s and Iskra’s faces. “And since then, it’s like everyone knows. Nobody calls me the Flood anymore, they just call me the Heartless.”
And honestly? He's not sure how he should feel about that.
It isn’t what leaves his lips, though, and an apologetic smile is shot toward Iskra as he seemingly does his best to choke quietly on his drink. Sunjata snags an empty glass and fills it with cool water and hands to him with a small “sorry,” before he’s listening to Melita’s suggestion, causing him to shrug his tattooed shoulders. “Yeah, I don’t know.” He sighs, rubbing at his face. “That’s not like.. the biggest thing, though. I gave her my heart, remember?” Back before he was infected, ensuring that his love wouldn’t stray because of how it had in the past.
He waits for her confirmation and any explanation she might need to give to Iskra in the process, before he takes a seat at the table with the drink and a plate of food that he pokes around with a fork before continuing. “She put it in her pocket dimension to keep it safe, I guess, but it’s dead now. I can’t feel anything.” His nose wrinkles and he looks up, steel grey eyes flitting between Melita’s and Iskra’s faces. “And since then, it’s like everyone knows. Nobody calls me the Flood anymore, they just call me the Heartless.”
And honestly? He's not sure how he should feel about that.
he wins every time i find myself inside, alone all night
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.
