// i'm not so good with tenses //
He waits just the right amount to not give into the anxiety to just leave - realizing quietly he’d feel bad, too, if Niki had spent all that time getting here from whatever it was he was doing only to find an empty porch. But the courage is still there, right when Niki opens the door and offers the start of a bland apology for how long the wait was, as if Sunjata wouldn’t mind waiting and warring with himself to linger there a bit longer.
A soft lopsided smile is shot toward the other man, and before he has a chance to respond he hears the question fall from his lips and internally winces. Not really. He wants to say, but it isn’t really Niki’s business, nor is it something he wants to burden him with. So he chooses something better, something that feels safer. “Yeah, mostly.” It’s a nonanswer, really, but he pushes past it quickly. “Just left the Mathair and was heading for the Village but the woods had their own idea.”
His cheeks puff out a little and he shifts the weight from one of his legs to another, rolling a shoulder in a shrug in the process. “So here I am. Hope I’m not bothering you.” He tacks on, taking note of the sleeve that remains rolled up while the other is still long and covering scars, the ruffled hair, the faint glint of nostalgia and reservation in the necromancer’s sharp face.
A soft lopsided smile is shot toward the other man, and before he has a chance to respond he hears the question fall from his lips and internally winces. Not really. He wants to say, but it isn’t really Niki’s business, nor is it something he wants to burden him with. So he chooses something better, something that feels safer. “Yeah, mostly.” It’s a nonanswer, really, but he pushes past it quickly. “Just left the Mathair and was heading for the Village but the woods had their own idea.”
His cheeks puff out a little and he shifts the weight from one of his legs to another, rolling a shoulder in a shrug in the process. “So here I am. Hope I’m not bothering you.” He tacks on, taking note of the sleeve that remains rolled up while the other is still long and covering scars, the ruffled hair, the faint glint of nostalgia and reservation in the necromancer’s sharp face.
the Heartless
// i'm tensin' up thinkin' about what i'm supposed to call you now //
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.
