SUNJATA
the flood
snow glistens on the ledge, whiskey on the bed
shake it out and light a cigarette
shake it out and light a cigarette
He laughs softly, nodding his agreement that he’d keep it in mind to drop by whenever he doesn’t have a crisis or day of drama if it ever happens – in the interim, though, he’ll be sure to drop by whenever he can. It isn’t often he feels like he can relax without being judged these days, but it’s something he finds increasingly easier and easier with the necromancer. “Sounds good.”
But then he’s explaining the mystery surrounding Niki and his macabre version of fun, when the blurted repetition of a grimoire escapes the other man and Sunjata latches onto the surprised sound of his voice, at the mischief that dances in the blue fire of his eyes. “Alright, no grimoire.. Yet.” He bounces his brows.
Brows that stay raised as Niki doesn’t get his meaning, but to be told he’s mysterious does settle something in his gut he doesn’t know exactly why it seems all up in arms. So as Niki turns toward the fireplace to poke another log into it, Sunjata answers the questions easily. “Yeah. A bicycle.” He pauses, snorting and sinking back on the couch to peer at Niki’s back. “A thing people ride.” He decides a split second after eluding to it he might as well just say it. “I’m a whore, Niki.” He says, chuckling low.
As for the quiet, Niki may or may not see the way he shakes his head. “Not usually, no. I like having some sound. Something to latch onto that’s not just silence.” Because silence left him alone with his thoughts. Silence was the fake calm the mansion he grew up in harbored before the storm of his father struck. Silence was just another reminder of being alone.
But then he’s explaining the mystery surrounding Niki and his macabre version of fun, when the blurted repetition of a grimoire escapes the other man and Sunjata latches onto the surprised sound of his voice, at the mischief that dances in the blue fire of his eyes. “Alright, no grimoire.. Yet.” He bounces his brows.
Brows that stay raised as Niki doesn’t get his meaning, but to be told he’s mysterious does settle something in his gut he doesn’t know exactly why it seems all up in arms. So as Niki turns toward the fireplace to poke another log into it, Sunjata answers the questions easily. “Yeah. A bicycle.” He pauses, snorting and sinking back on the couch to peer at Niki’s back. “A thing people ride.” He decides a split second after eluding to it he might as well just say it. “I’m a whore, Niki.” He says, chuckling low.
As for the quiet, Niki may or may not see the way he shakes his head. “Not usually, no. I like having some sound. Something to latch onto that’s not just silence.” Because silence left him alone with his thoughts. Silence was the fake calm the mansion he grew up in harbored before the storm of his father struck. Silence was just another reminder of being alone.
miss me when you, you wish you weren't right
shake me all out if i'm wrong, for you, for you
shake me all out if i'm wrong, for you, for you
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.
