SuNjATA
the flood
She reaches out a hand to him, and he glances to it briefly – wondering if whether or not he should. But… It doesn’t really matter, does it? He takes her hand, laces his fingers in with hers as he recalls more events. His gaze finds the magic that plays out, listening to the crashing of the waves. “When she died, everyone had seen it happen. So it was… Shocking for most, me especially.” As he’s sure she’s aware of. “And after that, I went to my room.” To do what? Nothing, really. “Lusea showed up not long after with a bottle of the best whiskey I’ve ever had.” A slightly nostalgic smile on his lips for that.
He glances to Maea with that same smile. “She stole it from her father. Said it was better use here.” He shrugs to that. “I think that might have been the drunkest I’ve ever gotten. I blacked out, woke up just as she was leaving.” His smile falters a small amount. Nothing had happened that night, just the presence of her and the comfort she’d brought in the form of conversation and whiskey. “She’d lost her mother, too. In a slums skirmish when she was young. I think that’s probably why she was the way she was. Korofi women were supposed to bow down to the men, very traditional. Lusea would just as soon tell someone to fuck off rather than do what they asked.” Gods knew she’d told him that enough.
“But anyway, after that night, she started calling me Sunny. Rather than Princeling or Senzaok. It was... A step, I suppose. Of getting into the shell that surrounded her.” He hums thoughtfully, reaching up with his bruised hand to rub at the side of his neck a small amount. It was a nickname only one other person had tried here, and with it – too many painful memories, too much.
He glances to Maea with that same smile. “She stole it from her father. Said it was better use here.” He shrugs to that. “I think that might have been the drunkest I’ve ever gotten. I blacked out, woke up just as she was leaving.” His smile falters a small amount. Nothing had happened that night, just the presence of her and the comfort she’d brought in the form of conversation and whiskey. “She’d lost her mother, too. In a slums skirmish when she was young. I think that’s probably why she was the way she was. Korofi women were supposed to bow down to the men, very traditional. Lusea would just as soon tell someone to fuck off rather than do what they asked.” Gods knew she’d told him that enough.
“But anyway, after that night, she started calling me Sunny. Rather than Princeling or Senzaok. It was... A step, I suppose. Of getting into the shell that surrounded her.” He hums thoughtfully, reaching up with his bruised hand to rub at the side of his neck a small amount. It was a nickname only one other person had tried here, and with it – too many painful memories, too much.
if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?
would we fly?
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.
