// and if i was the only thing you couldn't bear to lose,
i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
Well, so much for their smooth sailing Flowerbirth. It had almost gone well, almost, until the fog rolled in and a creature from the deep arose to drag them all back out to a watery grave. It had only taken a day, and already Sunjata’s changed from the man he was when he left to run errands. Now, all those errands forgotten, a dreary and groggy walk home with scars and a shirt that’s completely missing now – not like it matters, it had been singed and burned up in places anyway. But what has changed are the multitude of new scars forming on his skin.
The biggest notable one, certainly, the swipes along his left side and his hip – healed enough to show the fresh pink of an underskin layer forming. But then, traveling to his other side, his right hand still swollen and puffy, laced with branching scars that follow each and every vein, disappearing beneath the tattoos on his arm and shoulder, only to reappear crossing over his heart in a flurry of purples and orange blossoming bruises – pink and red scars showing through them. There’s almost the distinct bruise form of a few of his ribs, as well, and if it weren’t for Zuriel, he wonders if he’d be dead.
He’s glad he’s not, but his steps are heavier as he makes it to the door – slipping through and making his way up to the bedroom – imagining Nate’s sitting there waiting for him to come home, likely wondering how long it’s taken, probably worrying as he should have been this whole time. He pads up the stairs, wanting nothing more than a shower and sleep, ducking below the edge of the roof with the stairs as he walks up the last few steps. “Nate?” He asks or calls, he’s not sure – his mind still trying to wrap around everything that’d happened. Haai approaches on weary feet, exhaustion weighing heavily on her as well – the smell of smoke clinging to her fur as she finds a space to splay out on the floor.
At least the nausea was gone.
The biggest notable one, certainly, the swipes along his left side and his hip – healed enough to show the fresh pink of an underskin layer forming. But then, traveling to his other side, his right hand still swollen and puffy, laced with branching scars that follow each and every vein, disappearing beneath the tattoos on his arm and shoulder, only to reappear crossing over his heart in a flurry of purples and orange blossoming bruises – pink and red scars showing through them. There’s almost the distinct bruise form of a few of his ribs, as well, and if it weren’t for Zuriel, he wonders if he’d be dead.
He’s glad he’s not, but his steps are heavier as he makes it to the door – slipping through and making his way up to the bedroom – imagining Nate’s sitting there waiting for him to come home, likely wondering how long it’s taken, probably worrying as he should have been this whole time. He pads up the stairs, wanting nothing more than a shower and sleep, ducking below the edge of the roof with the stairs as he walks up the last few steps. “Nate?” He asks or calls, he’s not sure – his mind still trying to wrap around everything that’d happened. Haai approaches on weary feet, exhaustion weighing heavily on her as well – the smell of smoke clinging to her fur as she finds a space to splay out on the floor.
At least the nausea was gone.
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.
