they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes
he's a demon, with a crown of blood
While the blight begins to relinquish its hold on Phoebe, it’s only begun to sink in deeper to Sunjata. A constant battle with his thoughts, shaking hands, mood swings. But he has heard through the grapevine that people are feeling better, that those infected and inflicted are getting better, while his condition worsens. He doesn’t know what the reasoning behind it is, doesn’t know why he’s being made to suffer.
But he wants to know for sure if they are getting better — uncertain if the news will make him feel better or worse.
And of course, he knows nobody else that’s blighted aside from Phoebe. But she’s been gone, unknown to him at the time that she had been put in the prison. After some time of asking around, he found out, and made his trek there, dressed in more furs and leathers to keep the heat trapped in while his soul feels colder than it's ever been. It’s like making it out of the flood water, exhausted, drenched, and getting the Korofi winds to lash over you.
It’s too close to home for comfort.
His boots scuff along the stone floor as he makes his way toward the cells, glancing into each one for her. He looks a bit like a mess, the wounds Phoebe had given him haven’t healed, edged in black, despite the stitching Lusea had given him. He looks a mess in terms of his skin, but he’s managed to keep a semblance of his appearance with his hair and scruff of a beard. But gods does he look tired.
When he finally finds her, he leans against the wall opposite of the bars, across the hall. Dark steel eyes lingering on her. “Feel better?” A deep accented rumble, wanting to know and not wanting to know all the same.
But he wants to know for sure if they are getting better — uncertain if the news will make him feel better or worse.
And of course, he knows nobody else that’s blighted aside from Phoebe. But she’s been gone, unknown to him at the time that she had been put in the prison. After some time of asking around, he found out, and made his trek there, dressed in more furs and leathers to keep the heat trapped in while his soul feels colder than it's ever been. It’s like making it out of the flood water, exhausted, drenched, and getting the Korofi winds to lash over you.
It’s too close to home for comfort.
His boots scuff along the stone floor as he makes his way toward the cells, glancing into each one for her. He looks a bit like a mess, the wounds Phoebe had given him haven’t healed, edged in black, despite the stitching Lusea had given him. He looks a mess in terms of his skin, but he’s managed to keep a semblance of his appearance with his hair and scruff of a beard. But gods does he look tired.
When he finally finds her, he leans against the wall opposite of the bars, across the hall. Dark steel eyes lingering on her. “Feel better?” A deep accented rumble, wanting to know and not wanting to know all the same.
does it look like he's still under your control?
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.
