what's harder, harder to fake? that you want me to stay, or that you want me to stay the same
for you? chained to a lie. who's to blame? let it die. we're the same
for you? chained to a lie. who's to blame? let it die. we're the same
He’s tired. More and more with each day. And he doesn’t have the time to sit there and try to calm other’s nerves, to make it easier for them to digest when he could barely do it for himself. His words are harsh, they’re blunt, to the point and Sunjata watches as her face falls – as the anger dissipates to something more full of sorrow and anguish, as she tears her gaze away from his. ”I just… wanted to see you again.” And maybe… Maybe if it were a few months ago he’d be more understanding, he’d be more accommodating.
“You can stay if you like.” He repeats, easily, his accent thicker as he shifts the wings and reaches up to rub at his neck, over the compasses with a quiet sigh. “Look, I’m not trying to be an ass about it.” Muscles feather in his jaw as he shakes his head, a humorless laugh leaving him. “There is so much that happened and I’m still trying to piece everything back together, run this place, and prepare for what’s coming.” His gaze flicks back to her, but not quite at her, instead peering over her shoulder off into the distance where the house they had found once resided.
He takes a deep inhale, exhaling it out slowly. “So it’s your choice. You probably won’t see much of me this season if I have my choice.” Because if he has his choice, he’ll be holed away in his home, in his offices, in places where his father hopefully can’t reach him. Even the broken wing aches with the memory – a thought that flashes across his face briefly with a grimace before he shoves it away and lets his gaze drift toward the coast again.
“You can stay if you like.” He repeats, easily, his accent thicker as he shifts the wings and reaches up to rub at his neck, over the compasses with a quiet sigh. “Look, I’m not trying to be an ass about it.” Muscles feather in his jaw as he shakes his head, a humorless laugh leaving him. “There is so much that happened and I’m still trying to piece everything back together, run this place, and prepare for what’s coming.” His gaze flicks back to her, but not quite at her, instead peering over her shoulder off into the distance where the house they had found once resided.
He takes a deep inhale, exhaling it out slowly. “So it’s your choice. You probably won’t see much of me this season if I have my choice.” Because if he has his choice, he’ll be holed away in his home, in his offices, in places where his father hopefully can’t reach him. Even the broken wing aches with the memory – a thought that flashes across his face briefly with a grimace before he shoves it away and lets his gaze drift toward the coast again.
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.
