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
Sunjata knows the feeling – of whether or not he’s been lucky enough to be called it. People have tried, but given his track record he feels everything but lucky – bad cups of coffee included. Instead, he focuses on the next comment, figuring Niki means to continue to talk about Sunjata’s surprise floral tattoos. “Oh, it was.” The memory sparks a soft little laugh – though he’d been a bit occupied with his deity at the time to fully appreciate it.
Later, though, he enjoyed testing them out and seeing them come to life.
He notes the way Niki seems to study the scars he’s working to clean up, the way the sleeves get tugged down with a bit of interest. And while he thinks he’s words might not mean much to him (he didn’t know just how many scars Niki has, but he’d seen those that criss crossed his arms), it was easy for him to flash him a small smile as he sets the cloth down and lifts his mug of coffee to his lips, taking a deep sip. “It was a big deal back home.” He murmurs. “Scars, that is. Tattoos were super taboo and honestly worth getting disowned if you had them.” His nose wrinkles briefly before he sets the mug down.
“In the section of Korofi I grew up in, scars were like… Rights of passage.” He thinks he might have told him back then when the mention of the scar on his wing had come up, though he can’t fully recall. Nearly dying so many times had taken a toll on his memory, sue him. “You wore them proudly because you’d earned them. The whole… What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? It’s why I can’t make myself get rid of any of them.” His gaze drops down to the scars on his hands, the palm of his right hand where one scar sits starkly across the interior like he’d taken a blade to it. “I did get rid of one.. but. It was for the best, I think. I didn’t want to remember that one.”
Later, though, he enjoyed testing them out and seeing them come to life.
He notes the way Niki seems to study the scars he’s working to clean up, the way the sleeves get tugged down with a bit of interest. And while he thinks he’s words might not mean much to him (he didn’t know just how many scars Niki has, but he’d seen those that criss crossed his arms), it was easy for him to flash him a small smile as he sets the cloth down and lifts his mug of coffee to his lips, taking a deep sip. “It was a big deal back home.” He murmurs. “Scars, that is. Tattoos were super taboo and honestly worth getting disowned if you had them.” His nose wrinkles briefly before he sets the mug down.
“In the section of Korofi I grew up in, scars were like… Rights of passage.” He thinks he might have told him back then when the mention of the scar on his wing had come up, though he can’t fully recall. Nearly dying so many times had taken a toll on his memory, sue him. “You wore them proudly because you’d earned them. The whole… What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? It’s why I can’t make myself get rid of any of them.” His gaze drops down to the scars on his hands, the palm of his right hand where one scar sits starkly across the interior like he’d taken a blade to it. “I did get rid of one.. but. It was for the best, I think. I didn’t want to remember that one.”
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.
