SUNJATA
when I go into that ground
i won't go quietly, i'm bringing my crown
The librarian quirks interest in scorpions, and Sunjata smirks lightly to himself. Strange little insects with stingers attached to their tails, curled, poised, ready for a fight. Perhaps if he hadn’t gotten his wings tattooed he would have gotten a scorpion or two. Too late now, at least. Instead, he looks over the spider for a brief moment while he contemplates how to describe his home. “Mostly a desert kind of city, but we had terrible floods we had to adapt to. The summer months were the best, though, the sun dried out nearly everything.” He shrugs with a reminiscent smile.
Hence the scorpions.
But he smiles at Sunjata at the mention of the place, and he’s not entirely sure how to answer it. So instead, he bypasses it, a small huff of a smirk and a joke. “It’s a secret.” He winks, a tilt of the drink in Loren’s direction as if to say he’s not going to tell him, but it’s something like he thinks – hidden away, private, quiet. It’s better that way.
But the librarian pauses, and Sunjata’s head snaps toward him with a hint of surprise. “Me? Never.” He admits with another chuckle, finding the alcohol relieving and perhaps making him a bit more giggly than he usually was. “I belong to someone else.” He admits with a light smirk before tilting his attention back to the wine spider as Loren also orders a drink, for the spider and for himself, while Sunjata pours a bit of his own drink into the cup for the poor thing.
Yet when he tells Loren what he’s doing there, he lounges in the seat as he looks back to the other man. He offers a shrug in response, though nodding along. Sunjata wasn’t much one for funerals and wakes, having planned his own in his head a few too many times. He shakes the thought when Loren mentions he didn’t want to be home, and Jata’s dark brow raises. “I can understand that.” He says lightly, though the thought of skipping out on his family for the bars and the boxing rings are a bit more fresh with Lusea near him once more, that he trails off slightly.
He takes a sip of his drink before he settles in again and looks around. “So who’s going to run this place next, do you think?” He asks casually, curiously. If not Loren, then who would take the mantel?
Hence the scorpions.
But he smiles at Sunjata at the mention of the place, and he’s not entirely sure how to answer it. So instead, he bypasses it, a small huff of a smirk and a joke. “It’s a secret.” He winks, a tilt of the drink in Loren’s direction as if to say he’s not going to tell him, but it’s something like he thinks – hidden away, private, quiet. It’s better that way.
But the librarian pauses, and Sunjata’s head snaps toward him with a hint of surprise. “Me? Never.” He admits with another chuckle, finding the alcohol relieving and perhaps making him a bit more giggly than he usually was. “I belong to someone else.” He admits with a light smirk before tilting his attention back to the wine spider as Loren also orders a drink, for the spider and for himself, while Sunjata pours a bit of his own drink into the cup for the poor thing.
Yet when he tells Loren what he’s doing there, he lounges in the seat as he looks back to the other man. He offers a shrug in response, though nodding along. Sunjata wasn’t much one for funerals and wakes, having planned his own in his head a few too many times. He shakes the thought when Loren mentions he didn’t want to be home, and Jata’s dark brow raises. “I can understand that.” He says lightly, though the thought of skipping out on his family for the bars and the boxing rings are a bit more fresh with Lusea near him once more, that he trails off slightly.
He takes a sip of his drink before he settles in again and looks around. “So who’s going to run this place next, do you think?” He asks casually, curiously. If not Loren, then who would take the mantel?
and when I go into the ground
they gotta bury me, bury me face down
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.
