SUNJATA
i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring
and meeting all my vices in the ring
Despite Sunjata’s harsh upbringing, despite the way he’d had to learn things – he’s quick to ensure that he gives credit where credit is due. He praises her, watches as she moves right when he twists and moves in with his own blade – the action faster yet still slower than what a true fight would be. And the grin that slips along his face is wide as she dodges out, uses the twist of her feet to her advantage.
Even if she forgoes the triangle formation, which he notices that she does, she dives straight for his middle – his torso – and Sunjata steps back, planting his feet back in those triangles, right at the last moment before her dagger point has the time to reach the fabric of his shirt, and he twists again, bringing his left hand down diagonally toward her shoulder. “Consider it a dance.” He rumbles while he does so. “Each time someone attacks, they’re leading, you get to decide the way you move and react.” He informs her, finding it to be one of his favored types of dances – even metaphorically.
There was something beautiful in the action itself, in the way the blades could sing, close enough to see the shift of pupils and freckles along faces, the beads of sweat that appear along temples, the wild hair that spins and turns with each movement.
Even if she forgoes the triangle formation, which he notices that she does, she dives straight for his middle – his torso – and Sunjata steps back, planting his feet back in those triangles, right at the last moment before her dagger point has the time to reach the fabric of his shirt, and he twists again, bringing his left hand down diagonally toward her shoulder. “Consider it a dance.” He rumbles while he does so. “Each time someone attacks, they’re leading, you get to decide the way you move and react.” He informs her, finding it to be one of his favored types of dances – even metaphorically.
There was something beautiful in the action itself, in the way the blades could sing, close enough to see the shift of pupils and freckles along faces, the beads of sweat that appear along temples, the wild hair that spins and turns with each movement.
so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me
there ain't a casket strong enough for me
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.
