// 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 //
The nightmares were getting worse lately. It was as if the lightning had sparked long suppressed memories, ones that Sunjata had choked so far down that he hoped to have never seen them again. It seemed the lightning had other plans. Physically? He was healing well, felt fine, check-ups with both Nate and Vai doing well to keep him on track. But it isn’t the physical healing that he’s struggling with – no, mentally, Sunjata’s a mess.
And what does the Flood do each time he reaches that unstable mentality? He goes and sits by the shrine, talking mindlessly to Safrin whether she hears it or not – though part of him is sure she does, even when she doesn’t show.
This time, he’s not sure which he hopes for more, to look upon her and be able to explain the injustices that were committed in his upbringing with the hope of validation? Or his own internal choices of knowing how he’d been wronged, how he strives and yearns to consistently be better.
He sets a bouquet of purple flowers along the shrine, before sitting along the windowsill he’d last seen her, staring out into the wind whipped seas below, a dusting of navy feathers drifting down his neck and shoulders. “I’m not sure how to make them go away.” He begins, as if she’s there, listening, as he has many times before. “It hasn’t been this bad since I was eighteen?” A huff leaves him, a shake of his head, his left hand reaching up to rub at the lightning scars to his arm. “All that shit I experienced in Korofi just keeps coming back, sometimes it’s Luci, sometimes it’s Nate or Hotaru, sometimes it’s me.” His brows furrow, watching a few rogue Hels fight against the winds with a tired sigh.
And what does the Flood do each time he reaches that unstable mentality? He goes and sits by the shrine, talking mindlessly to Safrin whether she hears it or not – though part of him is sure she does, even when she doesn’t show.
This time, he’s not sure which he hopes for more, to look upon her and be able to explain the injustices that were committed in his upbringing with the hope of validation? Or his own internal choices of knowing how he’d been wronged, how he strives and yearns to consistently be better.
He sets a bouquet of purple flowers along the shrine, before sitting along the windowsill he’d last seen her, staring out into the wind whipped seas below, a dusting of navy feathers drifting down his neck and shoulders. “I’m not sure how to make them go away.” He begins, as if she’s there, listening, as he has many times before. “It hasn’t been this bad since I was eighteen?” A huff leaves him, a shake of his head, his left hand reaching up to rub at the lightning scars to his arm. “All that shit I experienced in Korofi just keeps coming back, sometimes it’s Luci, sometimes it’s Nate or Hotaru, sometimes it’s me.” His brows furrow, watching a few rogue Hels fight against the winds with a tired sigh.
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.
