SUNJATA
the flood
i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind
on the pavement, blowing in the wind
He’d received Maea’s letter, read over it a few times with a glass of rum at the Hanged Man before making his way back toward the beach and the lighthouse – a house nearby that she’d told him to still turn around, for him and not her. Fine, he could do that. It had been his dream, anyway, provided he even had those anymore. He’s in a shit mood once again, body a wreck with the basics of healing, and he’s not sure if he could entirely form a letter right now with the mood he’s in.
So he commits what it says to memory for when he tries to write one later, settling along the dune grasses of the beach as a storm rolls in, listening to the thunder in the distance and breathing in deeply as he cradles his hand in his lap, leaning back on his free elbow to try and get comfortable. Everything hurts, however, but at least Haai is there to try and be some sort of comfort. She curls around behind him to give him something to lean against that’s soft, and he takes it.
Taking Maea’s letter in his free hand, the one that doesn’t hurt with every single movement he does, and gives it to the griffin along the sand. She gets the hint, maw parting and smoke leaving her mouth as she ignites a flame to burn the letter to ash, letting it meld in the sand and shells around them. And he sighs heavily, watching the choppy waters as they raise ever nearer, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket and using the lighter that Libbs had made him to light it before settling in for something, not knowing what yet.
So he commits what it says to memory for when he tries to write one later, settling along the dune grasses of the beach as a storm rolls in, listening to the thunder in the distance and breathing in deeply as he cradles his hand in his lap, leaning back on his free elbow to try and get comfortable. Everything hurts, however, but at least Haai is there to try and be some sort of comfort. She curls around behind him to give him something to lean against that’s soft, and he takes it.
Taking Maea’s letter in his free hand, the one that doesn’t hurt with every single movement he does, and gives it to the griffin along the sand. She gets the hint, maw parting and smoke leaving her mouth as she ignites a flame to burn the letter to ash, letting it meld in the sand and shells around them. And he sighs heavily, watching the choppy waters as they raise ever nearer, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket and using the lighter that Libbs had made him to light it before settling in for something, not knowing what yet.
you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end
just a little bit more than you gained in the end
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.
