SUNJATA
isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?
A nod of his horned head is granted to Nate’s laugh, Sunjata’s own quiet chuckle following behind it. “Hope for the best, I suppose. At least I’ve got the bar to sleep in.” There’s a crooked amused smile that leaves his lips at that and a small shrug. But it fades a small amount at the admission of why Phoebe would think bad of it, regardless if he left it on or off. And he lifts his gaze back to Nate when he reaches out to tap his shoulder, a snort leaving his nose.
“I literally told her that we could make it work if she did whatever she wanted in her own time and I did whatever I wanted in mine.” A rise and fall of his shoulders. He felt it fair. “Spite wedding, I think is what it’s been called. It’s accurate at least.” The look that crosses his face is a cross between amusement and a grimace, not quite sure where to go from there – the options had been laid out, they hadn’t been good enough. She wanted to dote on him and care for him and change him, and Sunjata was too much of a tidal wave of shifting attentions and emotions, drowning beneath the surface to surge up to actually try to change.
Ultimately, Sunjata decides the wrist will work, gaze finding Nate’s bright ones. An agreement is settled with testing on the opposite wrist, a nod granted from a horned head. “Right.” A curl of his lip, a wry smile before a chuckle leaves him. “That’s the last thing I need.” A shake of his head to that. But he focuses on Nate, shifting his posture, giving in – something Sunjata had come to get used to much to his chagrin, tired of battling and fighting for it.
The question of time, the approach, does have his heart thundering in his chest – because this time he knows what’s coming next, he knows what to expect. But there’s no chair, no office to sit in, just a cool hard wall behind him that he leans against, chin lifting slightly until the points of his horns scrape against the stone. "Ready as I'll ever be." And he lifts his hand to Nate’s, steel eyes remaining on the doctor’s face, waiting with nothing to latch onto aside from a half broken statue beside him, offering a half crooked smile in response.
“I literally told her that we could make it work if she did whatever she wanted in her own time and I did whatever I wanted in mine.” A rise and fall of his shoulders. He felt it fair. “Spite wedding, I think is what it’s been called. It’s accurate at least.” The look that crosses his face is a cross between amusement and a grimace, not quite sure where to go from there – the options had been laid out, they hadn’t been good enough. She wanted to dote on him and care for him and change him, and Sunjata was too much of a tidal wave of shifting attentions and emotions, drowning beneath the surface to surge up to actually try to change.
Ultimately, Sunjata decides the wrist will work, gaze finding Nate’s bright ones. An agreement is settled with testing on the opposite wrist, a nod granted from a horned head. “Right.” A curl of his lip, a wry smile before a chuckle leaves him. “That’s the last thing I need.” A shake of his head to that. But he focuses on Nate, shifting his posture, giving in – something Sunjata had come to get used to much to his chagrin, tired of battling and fighting for it.
The question of time, the approach, does have his heart thundering in his chest – because this time he knows what’s coming next, he knows what to expect. But there’s no chair, no office to sit in, just a cool hard wall behind him that he leans against, chin lifting slightly until the points of his horns scrape against the stone. "Ready as I'll ever be." And he lifts his hand to Nate’s, steel eyes remaining on the doctor’s face, waiting with nothing to latch onto aside from a half broken statue beside him, offering a half crooked smile in response.
if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire
we'd be such a glorious fire
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.
