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?
There's a dip of his head in the form of a nod, when it comes to how old his daughter is. But for the rest of it, he regards her curiously at the mention of a child around the same age that could be a friend. There’s a moment of pause before he’s reaching up to scratch at the stubble along his chin before he nods to that too. “That would be nice.” He agrees gently, before he’s shuffling the papers out of the way and downing his drink, setting the basket off to the side so he can regard her a bit more fully.
She reinforces the fact that she isn’t the same as others — and he should know this, but given recent events he finds it a fraction more difficult. Everyone always wanted something, and most times Sunjata’s left out of the loop. Still, he snorts lightly as she prods him, a dark brow rising when he scans her face. “I’m not used to it, to be honest.” He murmurs. Especially in a place like Torchline where favors and bargains were typically the go to form of everything.
He pulls his gaze away from her to the bottle of mead he’s brought over, pouring a bit more into his glass before sitting back on the couch, stretching out his long legs. “Usually someone always wants something from me. That and I’m quite terrible at receiving gifts.” He flashes her a softer smile to that. It comes from a place where Sunjata’s upbringing didn’t really allow him to have anything but the bare necessities. He’d been raised in a room with white walls and pale blankets and no toys or anything else aside from what Saar would sneak over. He’d lived like that for eighteen years.
And perhaps that’s where his over the top opulence came when it came to the interior of the home, the paintings and murals on the walls, the decor that he and Nate had worked together to fill the space with. Perhaps that’s why it felt so homey. “But thank you, Maeve. I truly appreciate it.” He finally decides, his smile shifting a bit more crooked where the scar bunches up.
She reinforces the fact that she isn’t the same as others — and he should know this, but given recent events he finds it a fraction more difficult. Everyone always wanted something, and most times Sunjata’s left out of the loop. Still, he snorts lightly as she prods him, a dark brow rising when he scans her face. “I’m not used to it, to be honest.” He murmurs. Especially in a place like Torchline where favors and bargains were typically the go to form of everything.
He pulls his gaze away from her to the bottle of mead he’s brought over, pouring a bit more into his glass before sitting back on the couch, stretching out his long legs. “Usually someone always wants something from me. That and I’m quite terrible at receiving gifts.” He flashes her a softer smile to that. It comes from a place where Sunjata’s upbringing didn’t really allow him to have anything but the bare necessities. He’d been raised in a room with white walls and pale blankets and no toys or anything else aside from what Saar would sneak over. He’d lived like that for eighteen years.
And perhaps that’s where his over the top opulence came when it came to the interior of the home, the paintings and murals on the walls, the decor that he and Nate had worked together to fill the space with. Perhaps that’s why it felt so homey. “But thank you, Maeve. I truly appreciate it.” He finally decides, his smile shifting a bit more crooked where the scar bunches up.
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.
