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
It certainly is a questionable choice to leave it in his hands, and for the most part he’s relatively competent in this regard as he cracks the eggs and ever so casually drops the bomb between them. The bag of flour is dropped a short distance, but enough to send a small nuclear blast up and around them – pale white dusting coating his arms and half of his face, squinting against the cloud as he freezes in the egg breaking so he doesn’t actually get shells into the mixture.
He puffs out a little breath which only sends a little more flour into the air as he glances over at Niki and relaxes a fraction with the real answer he gets. It’s only in time to hear a bit of history, to see the glint of pink rise on snow reflected skin, and enough to glance over at the cane and the necromancer in question as he formulates how to respond. He doesn’t brush away the flour yet, though, letting it settle on his arm and face as he sets the shells down to snag the next egg, carefully clinking it against the side of the bowl. “That’s fair.” He murmurs softly, kind of at a loss of what to say immediately lest he scare Niki off as he had that one day he’d gone a little too far. But the thought does linger in his head over all the ways people in similar positions have found ways to get off. Unless, of course, they're not interested in the act at all - which somehow Sunjata doesn't get from Niki's answer.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” He asks, deciding to get that question out of the way. After all, he was the demigod of the sex god. If anyone would it’s him and he supposes he’d rather know now than later if he was pushing Niki’s boundaries simply by existing too close – even if everything screams at him that he doesn’t.
Because if he had, the necromancer certainly wouldn’t have chosen to live in his region.
He puffs out a little breath which only sends a little more flour into the air as he glances over at Niki and relaxes a fraction with the real answer he gets. It’s only in time to hear a bit of history, to see the glint of pink rise on snow reflected skin, and enough to glance over at the cane and the necromancer in question as he formulates how to respond. He doesn’t brush away the flour yet, though, letting it settle on his arm and face as he sets the shells down to snag the next egg, carefully clinking it against the side of the bowl. “That’s fair.” He murmurs softly, kind of at a loss of what to say immediately lest he scare Niki off as he had that one day he’d gone a little too far. But the thought does linger in his head over all the ways people in similar positions have found ways to get off. Unless, of course, they're not interested in the act at all - which somehow Sunjata doesn't get from Niki's answer.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” He asks, deciding to get that question out of the way. After all, he was the demigod of the sex god. If anyone would it’s him and he supposes he’d rather know now than later if he was pushing Niki’s boundaries simply by existing too close – even if everything screams at him that he doesn’t.
Because if he had, the necromancer certainly wouldn’t have chosen to live in his region.
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.
