// i'm not so good with tenses //
“Honestly, no.” Sunjata says with a soft laugh as the tension loosens – temporarily, of course, because the answer he gives Niki is a loaded one. One that can be expanded on as soon as he hears how he responds. For now, though, the first statement is one that Sunjata could continue to banter with, but the answer is surprisingly honest when he nods. “I would have, yeah.” He agrees. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
But then there’s the subject of being Frey’s demigod and what he would’ve stayed as that has layers and layers of his own trauma woven in like a picturesque blanket when Niki’s question hits him and his steel gaze lifts from the mug to the necromancer. It’s a good question, one that he isn’t even sure he could answer well. So he tilts his head and hums, looks up to the ceiling of the kitchen as he considers it and his long dangling earrings brush against the tattoos on his neck that point right at Niki from how he’s sitting. “I wasn’t really anything? I was.. Accepted when I arrived but that didn’t last long. I pledged myself to Safrin shortly after arriving because I wanted more, so she made me attuned.” He explains, how he’d chosen to be attuned, but chosen to bear the weight of owing the starry goddess.
“If I’m being honest I don’t think I ever really have just been myself.” And the times he had were too painful to stay sober for in most cases. Even back in Korofi, he’d been a solider. A defector. A puppet his father had tried to use until he’d realized he was too far past the point of control. And then he’d been an enemy. It’s almost as though Sunjata has always been in a fight one way or another, always looking for ways to be useful for them, to help everyone else at the expense of himself because he’s never really liked what was left of him without it.
His gaze drops back from the ceiling to offer Niki an apologetic smile. “I was the equivalent of a prince, back home. I was raised to be a soldier who’d then rule. The closest I got to being myself was making my own decisions and that’s when I escaped my father’s thumb and fought for the resistance. I had the know-how and the information, but it wasn’t really for myself after all. It was because I knew things could be better. Things had to be better.” And that, dear Niki, was just the tip of the iceberg of that question.
But then there’s the subject of being Frey’s demigod and what he would’ve stayed as that has layers and layers of his own trauma woven in like a picturesque blanket when Niki’s question hits him and his steel gaze lifts from the mug to the necromancer. It’s a good question, one that he isn’t even sure he could answer well. So he tilts his head and hums, looks up to the ceiling of the kitchen as he considers it and his long dangling earrings brush against the tattoos on his neck that point right at Niki from how he’s sitting. “I wasn’t really anything? I was.. Accepted when I arrived but that didn’t last long. I pledged myself to Safrin shortly after arriving because I wanted more, so she made me attuned.” He explains, how he’d chosen to be attuned, but chosen to bear the weight of owing the starry goddess.
“If I’m being honest I don’t think I ever really have just been myself.” And the times he had were too painful to stay sober for in most cases. Even back in Korofi, he’d been a solider. A defector. A puppet his father had tried to use until he’d realized he was too far past the point of control. And then he’d been an enemy. It’s almost as though Sunjata has always been in a fight one way or another, always looking for ways to be useful for them, to help everyone else at the expense of himself because he’s never really liked what was left of him without it.
His gaze drops back from the ceiling to offer Niki an apologetic smile. “I was the equivalent of a prince, back home. I was raised to be a soldier who’d then rule. The closest I got to being myself was making my own decisions and that’s when I escaped my father’s thumb and fought for the resistance. I had the know-how and the information, but it wasn’t really for myself after all. It was because I knew things could be better. Things had to be better.” And that, dear Niki, was just the tip of the iceberg of that question.
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.
