SUNJATA
the flood
you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face
He’s about to get to put his money where his mouth is as Caly arrives and sets the mugs of coffee on the table just before Niki’s about to get into the thick of helping him out. Almost as if knowing that they might want some time alone, the blonde leaves them with a kettle of hot coffee to refill their cups as necessary and a little bowl of creamer and sugar should they choose to add them. Niki’s coffee is black as can be, while Sunjata’s harbors some sugar and some cream – a hazelnut scent wafting from it as he glances over to nod to her a quiet thanks and she departs.
His attention returns to Niki, though, as the jacket is placed down and sleeves rolled up – immediately noticing scars there he’s never seen before. Actually, if he’s being honest, this is the most amount of skin he’s seen from the other man, but he draws no attention to the fact it’s there either way. He liked scars. He had enough of them to make up for most people, he’s pretty sure, and he’d be damned if he was caught shying away from them. Instead, he leans forward to get better into Niki’s range, eyes shutting without any fanfare.
The touch is nice, even if the reasoning for it is less than. That’s a thought he clings to like a lifeline, a buoy in the ocean that bobs and weaves with the torrent of his soul. He tracks the other man’s motions along his face, against the scars that bisect one of his eyebrows, the gnarled one along his cheek, the fair few of ascended bite scars on his neck that glint silver in the lower lighting back here. Only when Niki speaks does he open his eyes, blinking him back into focus and feeling already a little bit better to see Niki’s smile back at him, the found you like he’s been lost.
He thinks he has been lost for a while. But he doesn’t focus on that comment – its something he can dwell on amongst the rest of everything, but it lightens him quietly enough to offer the necromancer a small tug of a smile on the corner of his lips. “Thanks. Already feel a bit better.” Not enough, though he doesn’t say that. A little bit wsa still technically better.
His attention returns to Niki, though, as the jacket is placed down and sleeves rolled up – immediately noticing scars there he’s never seen before. Actually, if he’s being honest, this is the most amount of skin he’s seen from the other man, but he draws no attention to the fact it’s there either way. He liked scars. He had enough of them to make up for most people, he’s pretty sure, and he’d be damned if he was caught shying away from them. Instead, he leans forward to get better into Niki’s range, eyes shutting without any fanfare.
The touch is nice, even if the reasoning for it is less than. That’s a thought he clings to like a lifeline, a buoy in the ocean that bobs and weaves with the torrent of his soul. He tracks the other man’s motions along his face, against the scars that bisect one of his eyebrows, the gnarled one along his cheek, the fair few of ascended bite scars on his neck that glint silver in the lower lighting back here. Only when Niki speaks does he open his eyes, blinking him back into focus and feeling already a little bit better to see Niki’s smile back at him, the found you like he’s been lost.
He thinks he has been lost for a while. But he doesn’t focus on that comment – its something he can dwell on amongst the rest of everything, but it lightens him quietly enough to offer the necromancer a small tug of a smile on the corner of his lips. “Thanks. Already feel a bit better.” Not enough, though he doesn’t say that. A little bit wsa still technically better.
by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it
and it hurts 'cause we survived it
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.
