is this heartache we can fix?
in the morning when we wake?
Is it light outside? Is that the sun that wanes and waxes along the building in the distance? Or is it the lighthouse, the beam of light within as powerful as the sun, illuminating the night with little of the warmth. It’s still warm from earlier, when the sun rampaged overhead, pouring its heat into the rocks and grasses along the cliffs – and that is where Sunjata slithers along, searching for that particularly perfect rock to perch upon.
He finds it when he spots something of a brilliant glimmering opal, reflecting the light from the lighthouse. It almost looks like it’s on fire, something that calls to the Flood more and more with each passing day. He wonders if he might find Lusea within the flames, these magical spiraling fingers reaching toward the sky.
So of course, he makes his way there, perching himself atop the rock. He thinks he remains as a snake, scales soaking up the heat of the flat rock beneath the lighthouse, but in reality the man lays upon the stone on his back in another jet black shift. The panther shift, tail sweeping along the grasses below – a clawed paw lifting to pull at the flames he’s engulfed himself in when the lighthouse light sweeps past. Fire’s not so bad. He’s purring, whiskers twitching, watching the flames from the middle of them all.
He finds it when he spots something of a brilliant glimmering opal, reflecting the light from the lighthouse. It almost looks like it’s on fire, something that calls to the Flood more and more with each passing day. He wonders if he might find Lusea within the flames, these magical spiraling fingers reaching toward the sky.
So of course, he makes his way there, perching himself atop the rock. He thinks he remains as a snake, scales soaking up the heat of the flat rock beneath the lighthouse, but in reality the man lays upon the stone on his back in another jet black shift. The panther shift, tail sweeping along the grasses below – a clawed paw lifting to pull at the flames he’s engulfed himself in when the lighthouse light sweeps past. Fire’s not so bad. He’s purring, whiskers twitching, watching the flames from the middle of them all.
when i'm sober, would you stay?
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.
