SUNJATA
the heartless
i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind
on the pavement, blowing in the wind
This wasn’t getting anywhere – regardless of whether or not he’d come out of the gate apologetic and begging her for her to understand, or to go back to his old ways of taking the blame, of being the reason that everything awful always happened. Hadn’t he told her that once before? That associating with him was always going to end up in heartache of some form or another?
Or maybe that was just the ghosts of his pasts beforehand. Because, selfishly and naively, he’d imagined that this time it would be different. That each and every time after that it had to be different, right?
Jokes on him. And that’s something that settles amongst the void of his chest, disappointment in himself mainly, though that wasn’t a new feeling. It just seemed to keep piling on and on as the days went on, and with the lack of sleep he’d endured as of late, it’s a culmination of everything else that haunts him. Now the bones of her ranch, this argument, all of them just another ghost to remind him of his failings when he’s trying to fall asleep again.
He wants to argue back with her that there are things left to care about, but yet again it’s likely nothing he says will even settle somewhere it’ll matter. So he bites the inside of his cheek again until it’s raw and aching, wings rustling as he hides the internal wince of the monikers she gives him, turning away from her as each one lands and nestles.
He can hear her start to walk, to drift out through the remains and Sunjata spies the hands still on the edge of everything, still searching for the livestock Colt had and he decides that maybe his original plan had been something he should’ve left to do before it got this deep, this personal, this painful.
“Fine.” That’s all he can muster up to say before his wings snap out and carry him into the sky, a bolted fury of leather wings that zip him toward the horizon where he can actually help the hands rather than play target practice with their boss. And with his help and far reaching shifts at his disposal, at least he helps in this regard.
- FIN
Or maybe that was just the ghosts of his pasts beforehand. Because, selfishly and naively, he’d imagined that this time it would be different. That each and every time after that it had to be different, right?
Jokes on him. And that’s something that settles amongst the void of his chest, disappointment in himself mainly, though that wasn’t a new feeling. It just seemed to keep piling on and on as the days went on, and with the lack of sleep he’d endured as of late, it’s a culmination of everything else that haunts him. Now the bones of her ranch, this argument, all of them just another ghost to remind him of his failings when he’s trying to fall asleep again.
He wants to argue back with her that there are things left to care about, but yet again it’s likely nothing he says will even settle somewhere it’ll matter. So he bites the inside of his cheek again until it’s raw and aching, wings rustling as he hides the internal wince of the monikers she gives him, turning away from her as each one lands and nestles.
He can hear her start to walk, to drift out through the remains and Sunjata spies the hands still on the edge of everything, still searching for the livestock Colt had and he decides that maybe his original plan had been something he should’ve left to do before it got this deep, this personal, this painful.
“Fine.” That’s all he can muster up to say before his wings snap out and carry him into the sky, a bolted fury of leather wings that zip him toward the horizon where he can actually help the hands rather than play target practice with their boss. And with his help and far reaching shifts at his disposal, at least he helps in this regard.
- FIN
you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end
just a little bit more than you gained in the end
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.
