SUNJATA
Gods he feels like shit, but there’s still work to be done. Sporting a bruise along his jaw, a split lip, and a tender sore of Deimos’ claws down his side, he tries to stay as still as he can behind the side of the bar – helping out where he can but simply spending a majority of the time working on the inventory of bottles, things he can separate out, bring to Halo for some decent booze in comparison to the piss they sell under the guise of getting drunk.
Haai sits atop the table as well, the wolf/magpie griffin laying languidly on her side, tail feathers brushing against Sunjata’s side where the wounds are occasionally until he moves away from her – hissing something in his native tongue to her with a slight glare. He shifts the shirt along his chest, a dark navy sleeveless one, all tattoos aside from the one on his chest on display with a shark bite scar that peeks just beneath an arm.
The griffin doesn’t seem quite done yet, however, and she scoots herself along the bar a bit closer, tail feathers flicking out to smack him in the side again. “I swear to Safrin.” He grumbles, picking up the griffin and setting her on the floor before he pulls out a glass and fills it with some of his strongest whiskey. He takes a deep sip of it and begins to fiddle in one of the drawers of the bar in search of a pack of cigarettes, the lighter Libbs made him already out and ready in his free hand.
Haai sits atop the table as well, the wolf/magpie griffin laying languidly on her side, tail feathers brushing against Sunjata’s side where the wounds are occasionally until he moves away from her – hissing something in his native tongue to her with a slight glare. He shifts the shirt along his chest, a dark navy sleeveless one, all tattoos aside from the one on his chest on display with a shark bite scar that peeks just beneath an arm.
The griffin doesn’t seem quite done yet, however, and she scoots herself along the bar a bit closer, tail feathers flicking out to smack him in the side again. “I swear to Safrin.” He grumbles, picking up the griffin and setting her on the floor before he pulls out a glass and fills it with some of his strongest whiskey. He takes a deep sip of it and begins to fiddle in one of the drawers of the bar in search of a pack of cigarettes, the lighter Libbs made him already out and ready in his free hand.
i'll never be that me again
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.
