// i am the man we both couldn't stand. i can't wash the dirt from my hands. what was it like to feel in love?
i can't scrub off the black from my lungs, i can't wipe off the taste from my tongue //
i can't scrub off the black from my lungs, i can't wipe off the taste from my tongue //
They’re right. Judging is easier. And gods knew Sunjata had been judged a vast majority of his life whether or not it was true. He should’ve learned to be able to shrug it off, to not let it get to him, that if there was one think he inherited from Shaju shouldn’t have been his eyes but the ability to ignore opposers. And as he settles in and listens to his god, the only one who hasn’t judged him the way everyone else had. The only one that had helped him when he’d known his choices wouldn’t be well received by the general public.
He should listen to them more often, he decides.
Their fingers massage through his shoulders, loosening the tension that’s continued to weigh on each other. He’s reminded that people are complex, that they’re right in the fact he isn’t inherently evil, even when he doesn’t do things that better the vast majority. And maybe it’s about time that he stops trying to appease everyone, not quite to the Voice’s extent in this instance, but there was more to him than the mistakes, the good, and the bad that he’d done in his life.
“Yeah, that’s true.” He huffs a little, indulging selfishly in the soothing touch Frey offers even as the mention of Colt comes back – reading between the lines of just how much he’d let her fuck with him. And for what? King’s End was flourishing. He’d had a good trade amount, was respected as a leader, and worked well with the others. What more could he ask for?
Their hand slips free from the massage, though, cupping his cheek and guiding his head up until his silver gaze lands on them, studying the loose shape they take and the stark blues. His lips twitch toward a slight frown, knowing that they don’t mean it in the way that he feels like it could be. It isn’t a flaw, it isn’t something to be fixed as his father might have tried to do, and so he tilts his head into Frey’s touch, the frown softening under the touch of their thumb against his lower lip. The offer is a boon, though, one that he looks forward to, that there’s utmost comfort in that little offer. Like he’s worth something more than just the loneliness he feels.
He is theirs, after all. “Thank you.” He says softly, sinking into them a little more before a small huff of amusement leaves him and he loosens the tension in his jaw. “Is it too much to ask for a night or two where I can get a little fucked up?” He asks, not hesitating too long before he continues the explanation. “I know it won’t fix anything, but it’ll make me feel a little more like me for a bit. I think it’ll help me reset.” Gods knew he missed the occasional ability to be drunk or high, to forget about things for a little bit.
He should listen to them more often, he decides.
Their fingers massage through his shoulders, loosening the tension that’s continued to weigh on each other. He’s reminded that people are complex, that they’re right in the fact he isn’t inherently evil, even when he doesn’t do things that better the vast majority. And maybe it’s about time that he stops trying to appease everyone, not quite to the Voice’s extent in this instance, but there was more to him than the mistakes, the good, and the bad that he’d done in his life.
“Yeah, that’s true.” He huffs a little, indulging selfishly in the soothing touch Frey offers even as the mention of Colt comes back – reading between the lines of just how much he’d let her fuck with him. And for what? King’s End was flourishing. He’d had a good trade amount, was respected as a leader, and worked well with the others. What more could he ask for?
Their hand slips free from the massage, though, cupping his cheek and guiding his head up until his silver gaze lands on them, studying the loose shape they take and the stark blues. His lips twitch toward a slight frown, knowing that they don’t mean it in the way that he feels like it could be. It isn’t a flaw, it isn’t something to be fixed as his father might have tried to do, and so he tilts his head into Frey’s touch, the frown softening under the touch of their thumb against his lower lip. The offer is a boon, though, one that he looks forward to, that there’s utmost comfort in that little offer. Like he’s worth something more than just the loneliness he feels.
He is theirs, after all. “Thank you.” He says softly, sinking into them a little more before a small huff of amusement leaves him and he loosens the tension in his jaw. “Is it too much to ask for a night or two where I can get a little fucked up?” He asks, not hesitating too long before he continues the explanation. “I know it won’t fix anything, but it’ll make me feel a little more like me for a bit. I think it’ll help me reset.” Gods knew he missed the occasional ability to be drunk or high, to forget about things for a little bit.
i am the shadow driving the hearse, what was it like to feel in love? what was it like to feel?
SUNJATA
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.
