SUNJATA
the flood
but am i too late? or hearts to your spades,
if i don't suit you? then what do you want from me?
if i don't suit you? then what do you want from me?
Sunjata’s mind tries to wrap around everything, tries to pinpoint what’s occurred and what will occur, but he comes up empty every time. He tries and tries and instead his mind begins to numb things out, to blur them together with other situations – moments where it isn’t feathers he’s pulling from the sand but bullets instead. The thought makes him shudder when he focuses on it and realizes what it actually is. One blink to change it from cool, fired, warped metal into a soft feather in his calloused hands.
Declan’s voice reaches him again and he’s almost forgotten he’s spoke up at all. But the man’s right, he does need a plan, he does need to be smart. How can he do it when he feels like he’s lost every advantage he’s had? So he’s quiet for another bit of time, Declan’s gaze felt on him but he doesn’t look over. Instead, he simply just focuses on the feather in his hand before he drops it into the bucket and moves to deposit that too once the feathers are picked up. And then it’s onto cleaning the blood – he grabs another rag and more fresh water, joining the other man as he works to draw the blood from the wood again.
“I’m not falling apart.” He is. “How do I make a move when I don’t know where to start? Where to strike?” He knows nothing about what his father’s been up to here. He knows nothing about what relationships he has with people – it was alarming how charming his father could be, the way he could manipulate others into doing unthinkable things.
And get them to lie for him.
He’s silent for a time once again, mulling over his words. “I’ll keep the note. When I find him again, I’ll strike then.” He just… Needs to find him first, to not let him get the upper hand. Though that was the hard part, seeing as his father’s trained him well, conditioned him to freeze up and panic about everything he does.
Perhaps he’ll be ready next time.
Declan’s voice reaches him again and he’s almost forgotten he’s spoke up at all. But the man’s right, he does need a plan, he does need to be smart. How can he do it when he feels like he’s lost every advantage he’s had? So he’s quiet for another bit of time, Declan’s gaze felt on him but he doesn’t look over. Instead, he simply just focuses on the feather in his hand before he drops it into the bucket and moves to deposit that too once the feathers are picked up. And then it’s onto cleaning the blood – he grabs another rag and more fresh water, joining the other man as he works to draw the blood from the wood again.
“I’m not falling apart.” He is. “How do I make a move when I don’t know where to start? Where to strike?” He knows nothing about what his father’s been up to here. He knows nothing about what relationships he has with people – it was alarming how charming his father could be, the way he could manipulate others into doing unthinkable things.
And get them to lie for him.
He’s silent for a time once again, mulling over his words. “I’ll keep the note. When I find him again, I’ll strike then.” He just… Needs to find him first, to not let him get the upper hand. Though that was the hard part, seeing as his father’s trained him well, conditioned him to freeze up and panic about everything he does.
Perhaps he’ll be ready next time.
so we're not written in the stars,
but i'm okay with that. i'm okay with anything
but i'm okay with that. i'm okay with anything
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.
