we must always be willing to be more savage to the angels
rip up their flesh and reveal them to be nothing
There is this moment, where Sunjata considers responding to Nate — something cheesy, along the lines of mentioning how if it weren’t for the wedding they wouldn’t be in the situation they are now. In a roundabout way, at least. But it dies on his tongue as his gut churns with the uncertainty of the seriousness in which he’s tacked onto what would have been just any normal gathering of materials in a way. Instead, he’s either blown it in second guessing what him and Nate aren’t good at talking about, or he’s gone in too fast too soon.
But gods, Nate’s been living with him for how long now? Perhaps it wasn’t so far off in the sudden reflection of quiet confessions in moonlit oceans.
He slices Nate’s palm regardless, because that’s something that needs to be done. And his gaze lifts to meet Nate’s, knowing full well the other man’s eyes haven’t left his face this whole time. He doesn’t know what to say, what kind of jest might make it lighten the suddenly very intense mood he’s painted all over the ring. But he stands still, setting the blade on the counter still dripping with the iridescent fluid while Nate’s hands lift to encompass his neck. His gaze lingers on Nate’s electric blues, his stomach warring with itself as he hears the words slip from Nate’s lips.
And really? It’s probably the best version of that tradition he’s heard. Something of him, but something of Nate too. He remains silent while Nate stumbles slightly over the words, a softer almost boyish smile crossing his face, enough that it crinkles the corner of his eyes a small amount, not moving despite feeling the slick iridescent liquid along his tattoos, shimmering in the low light of inside the boxing ring. “To the end.” He agrees, voice rough and a deep rumble, an awkward sort of laugh slipping from him. But he leans into the kiss regardless, however chaste it may be, before Nate’s looking down at his palm and Sunjata has to take a moment to reel in what exactly was happening now.
Feels to him like it changes everything and yet… and yet —
He moves to take a bit of the training that Nate’s taught him, taking a bandage and wrapping it over the cut to try and stop the bleeding, a glint to his eye as he lifts Nate’s hand to his lips in a soft kiss just as the Ascended had done for him upstairs in this very place, before a characteristic rogue smirk crosses his face, right hand lifting to tangle in Nate’s hair. “Hope you don’t plan on writing much until you heal. Still, that payback is yours to take.” He offers with a raise of his brow, his own left palm opening up beneath Nate’s.
But gods, Nate’s been living with him for how long now? Perhaps it wasn’t so far off in the sudden reflection of quiet confessions in moonlit oceans.
He slices Nate’s palm regardless, because that’s something that needs to be done. And his gaze lifts to meet Nate’s, knowing full well the other man’s eyes haven’t left his face this whole time. He doesn’t know what to say, what kind of jest might make it lighten the suddenly very intense mood he’s painted all over the ring. But he stands still, setting the blade on the counter still dripping with the iridescent fluid while Nate’s hands lift to encompass his neck. His gaze lingers on Nate’s electric blues, his stomach warring with itself as he hears the words slip from Nate’s lips.
And really? It’s probably the best version of that tradition he’s heard. Something of him, but something of Nate too. He remains silent while Nate stumbles slightly over the words, a softer almost boyish smile crossing his face, enough that it crinkles the corner of his eyes a small amount, not moving despite feeling the slick iridescent liquid along his tattoos, shimmering in the low light of inside the boxing ring. “To the end.” He agrees, voice rough and a deep rumble, an awkward sort of laugh slipping from him. But he leans into the kiss regardless, however chaste it may be, before Nate’s looking down at his palm and Sunjata has to take a moment to reel in what exactly was happening now.
Feels to him like it changes everything and yet… and yet —
He moves to take a bit of the training that Nate’s taught him, taking a bandage and wrapping it over the cut to try and stop the bleeding, a glint to his eye as he lifts Nate’s hand to his lips in a soft kiss just as the Ascended had done for him upstairs in this very place, before a characteristic rogue smirk crosses his face, right hand lifting to tangle in Nate’s hair. “Hope you don’t plan on writing much until you heal. Still, that payback is yours to take.” He offers with a raise of his brow, his own left palm opening up beneath Nate’s.
how willing you must be to kill angels
and how willing they must be to let you do it
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.
