SUNJATA
i heard you telling lies
i heard you say you weren't born of our blood
i heard you say you weren't born of our blood
He keeps his space, he remains distant, tries to wipe away the blood on his hands. Hotaru’s words hit and they always hit hard, and all it does is spur on more of that deep rooted frustration – the realization that he’d absolutely fucked up, but there wasn’t anything that could be done now, could there? “Stop putting words in my mouth, Hotaru.” He grits out, letting his shadowed steel gaze focus on her briefly. Sure, he supposes it would be fixing, but… Up until recently, hadn’t that been something Nate wanted?
Had he been wrong this entire time?
And Nate’s different, he’s changed, he’s a demigod now – evident in all the ways that have extra arms sprouting, darting for him and reaching him easily. And of course he flinches away from the touch at his jaw, eyes shutting and inhaling deeply, when it doesn’t quite work. It’s brief, short, and Nate hisses and grabs onto his shirt instead – what little left of it there is.
And he’s shaken, a different kind from when Remi had jostled his soul – but still powerful all the same. And it jostles him enough to hear Nate’s hoarse words, Hotaru’s angered rampage of how horrible he’d been at protecting Nate. Silver gleams in his gaze as he tries to shrug out of Nate’s grip, that armored plating of his dragon shift flickering along his shoulders and neck again. “I know.” It breaks him, truly, his heart shattering where he stands – wings flaring from his spine and horns appearing from his dragon shift instead of the nyala, and he tries to subconsciously blend into the shadow of the home from the morning light.
He doesn’t know what to say to Hotaru. The things that come to mind is that drawing comparisons between his protection of Nate and his protection of an innocent child would be different. But it would come out wrong, and its with that, that his arms begin to blend into claws and scales too. “You did too, Nate.” He finally manages, gaze shuddering, a tear falling that he stubbornly wipes away at. “I can’t hide from her. We knew that. We all knew that.” He tries to protest. They did, whether or not they admitted it to one another. But that conversation hadn’t come up yet. “And you’re a demi-god now.” Sunjata may be the father of a child of Safrin’s, but no demi-god did he make.
He was no Nate. He was no Remi. No Ronin. No Amalia. No Wessex.
No, just an easily manipulated Governor of a land that only half even wanted him here.
“Lines were going to be drawn and there was never a situation where we got the choice to avoid it. And all… All I wanted to do was to protect you.” Perhaps Remi should have killed him when given the chance. Perhaps he shouldn’t have hoped to survive the fall of the cliff. Perhaps the shell of Hotaru and Nate was better than this inevitability. It’s enough that it makes him want to leave, makes him want to go somewhere else. But this is his home and he has nowhere else to go. And so the scales keep traveling, closing himself off. Muscles feather in his face as the plates travel up along his jaw. "I don't want to do this." He admits weakly. He doesn't want to fight in a war, faced up against Nate. He doesn't want to lose everything again.
Had he been wrong this entire time?
And Nate’s different, he’s changed, he’s a demigod now – evident in all the ways that have extra arms sprouting, darting for him and reaching him easily. And of course he flinches away from the touch at his jaw, eyes shutting and inhaling deeply, when it doesn’t quite work. It’s brief, short, and Nate hisses and grabs onto his shirt instead – what little left of it there is.
And he’s shaken, a different kind from when Remi had jostled his soul – but still powerful all the same. And it jostles him enough to hear Nate’s hoarse words, Hotaru’s angered rampage of how horrible he’d been at protecting Nate. Silver gleams in his gaze as he tries to shrug out of Nate’s grip, that armored plating of his dragon shift flickering along his shoulders and neck again. “I know.” It breaks him, truly, his heart shattering where he stands – wings flaring from his spine and horns appearing from his dragon shift instead of the nyala, and he tries to subconsciously blend into the shadow of the home from the morning light.
He doesn’t know what to say to Hotaru. The things that come to mind is that drawing comparisons between his protection of Nate and his protection of an innocent child would be different. But it would come out wrong, and its with that, that his arms begin to blend into claws and scales too. “You did too, Nate.” He finally manages, gaze shuddering, a tear falling that he stubbornly wipes away at. “I can’t hide from her. We knew that. We all knew that.” He tries to protest. They did, whether or not they admitted it to one another. But that conversation hadn’t come up yet. “And you’re a demi-god now.” Sunjata may be the father of a child of Safrin’s, but no demi-god did he make.
He was no Nate. He was no Remi. No Ronin. No Amalia. No Wessex.
No, just an easily manipulated Governor of a land that only half even wanted him here.
“Lines were going to be drawn and there was never a situation where we got the choice to avoid it. And all… All I wanted to do was to protect you.” Perhaps Remi should have killed him when given the chance. Perhaps he shouldn’t have hoped to survive the fall of the cliff. Perhaps the shell of Hotaru and Nate was better than this inevitability. It’s enough that it makes him want to leave, makes him want to go somewhere else. But this is his home and he has nowhere else to go. And so the scales keep traveling, closing himself off. Muscles feather in his face as the plates travel up along his jaw. "I don't want to do this." He admits weakly. He doesn't want to fight in a war, faced up against Nate. He doesn't want to lose everything again.
i know we're the crooked kind
but you're crooked too, boy, and it shows
but you're crooked too, boy, and it shows
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.
