we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different
the same old things expecting something different
He hears the ruckus long before it actually comes to a head – though he isn’t directly active on the floor right this second. He drifts throughout it, though, checking on things here and there, until he’s reached the bar this time to write down his inventory. Her approach isn’t unnoticed, nor is it unnoticed by the variety of clientele at the bar currently. But it seems her attention isn’t on those within the House of Midnight that seek out the same as her.
She hasn’t yet gone for his workers, either, he notices. But the Halovian whiskey is poured into a glass easily, Sunjata dismissing the bartender from her specifically so he can see what it is exactly that she’s looking for. So he turns to her once he’s made the drink, sliding it across the smooth wooden top of the bar before he leans against it toward her.
A crooked smile tugs on his face – scarred and lopsided that mirror the other scars on his body alongside the tattoos that paint his suntanned skin. Grey eyes framed by long lashes and thick freckles spread across his nose give her a good long look. “You know, you don’t have to try quite so hard. I do have workers that’d be happy to show you a good time, unless they don't strike your fancy?” If it wasn’t clear before, it should be now that the Archon, the Heartless, stands before her, his dark brow raised in a playful gesture of his question as he juts his stubbled chin toward a few workers mingling about through the crowds.
She hasn’t yet gone for his workers, either, he notices. But the Halovian whiskey is poured into a glass easily, Sunjata dismissing the bartender from her specifically so he can see what it is exactly that she’s looking for. So he turns to her once he’s made the drink, sliding it across the smooth wooden top of the bar before he leans against it toward her.
A crooked smile tugs on his face – scarred and lopsided that mirror the other scars on his body alongside the tattoos that paint his suntanned skin. Grey eyes framed by long lashes and thick freckles spread across his nose give her a good long look. “You know, you don’t have to try quite so hard. I do have workers that’d be happy to show you a good time, unless they don't strike your fancy?” If it wasn’t clear before, it should be now that the Archon, the Heartless, stands before her, his dark brow raised in a playful gesture of his question as he juts his stubbled chin toward a few workers mingling about through the crowds.
but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste
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.
