we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different
the same old things expecting something different
He does rival Asta for his height – a point that the butcher would absolutely have something to say about, because Sunjata can harbor horns of his own as well, which is something that Thalassa might have a moment of unearthing from him if they continue this little tango. So at his question, hearing her confirmation, the Heartless’ scarred corner of his lips quirks up a touch.
She peeks up at him as coy as can be, and while she reasons the answer and her tail flicks similarly to a cat that might have found some prey, Sunjata only has his own sultry smirk to offer back to her. “Depends, I think.” He starts off with a dramatic inhale, the tip of one claw clicking against the glass as he thinks. “You’d have to find someone that doesn’t hate handing over the reins.” He reasons, if she liked to be in charge. His silver gaze dropping to see the expanse of her neck, before they flick back up to meet her face.
But he pauses, then, the smirk remaining as he leans back against the bar toward her, an indulgent stretch of his own. “Or someone flexible enough.” He points back at her, his head tilting, earrings dancing against his tattooed neck with the movement. “You want a tour of the rooms?” His brow lifts, an offer extended out so it seemed less like she was securing a room if she wanted to be confident and cocky about not paying for anything. And for Sunjata, well, at this point in time he just wants to feel something else aside from the hollowness of his chest where his heart should be.
She peeks up at him as coy as can be, and while she reasons the answer and her tail flicks similarly to a cat that might have found some prey, Sunjata only has his own sultry smirk to offer back to her. “Depends, I think.” He starts off with a dramatic inhale, the tip of one claw clicking against the glass as he thinks. “You’d have to find someone that doesn’t hate handing over the reins.” He reasons, if she liked to be in charge. His silver gaze dropping to see the expanse of her neck, before they flick back up to meet her face.
But he pauses, then, the smirk remaining as he leans back against the bar toward her, an indulgent stretch of his own. “Or someone flexible enough.” He points back at her, his head tilting, earrings dancing against his tattooed neck with the movement. “You want a tour of the rooms?” His brow lifts, an offer extended out so it seemed less like she was securing a room if she wanted to be confident and cocky about not paying for anything. And for Sunjata, well, at this point in time he just wants to feel something else aside from the hollowness of his chest where his heart should be.
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.
