SUNJATA
Internally, Sunjata freezes with the suggestion of wearing a dress. He’s never worn anything of the sort, content to wear his sleeveless shirts, tight pants, leather jackets whenever he gets a chance. He’s not sure what he’d do with the idea of trying to force himself into such a garment, recalling just how much Saartjie hated them back home in Korofi. (Granted the only kind of dresses Sunjata’s familiar with are the ones that sport corsets and leave nothing but bruises behind with how tight the ribbons are tied in the back). Externally, though, the Flood offers his daughter a bright pale smile. “Long flowy ones, too.” Maybe she’ll forget. He hopes she does.
But then he’s launching into what shifts he has – how it almost sounds like too much when each one falls from his lips. But it’s the secret one that has him grinning when he pulls away from whispering it in her ear, a glimmer to his gaze as he remains kneeling in the water, watching the confusion take root on Kamaria’s face. “It’s secret so that way I can go places without people knowing I’m me.” He informs her, before his face takes on a serious look, as if it’s the biggest secret he has. “You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone about it, aside from Nate, okay?” His brows raise as if he’s trying to urge the point that it was secret and it needed to remain secret.
For spying, of course, but he doesn’t think she’s old enough for the truth of that, yet.
He leans back on his heels when she questions what his favorite one is, his hand rising to rub at the stubble along his cheek, scratching along the edge of the scar that spans it as he hums and haws his thoughts. “I like them all… But if I had to choose one?” He considers her carefully, head tilting slightly before he’s shuffling back from her to shift into his panther shift – the form taking on quite the fuzzy black and spotted hue in the place he had been kneeling before.
There’s a low rumble of what could only be considered a purr that slips from the panther’s throat as he steps forward, pressing his blocky, fuzzy head into Kamaria’s side in a soft and gentle nuzzle.
But then he’s launching into what shifts he has – how it almost sounds like too much when each one falls from his lips. But it’s the secret one that has him grinning when he pulls away from whispering it in her ear, a glimmer to his gaze as he remains kneeling in the water, watching the confusion take root on Kamaria’s face. “It’s secret so that way I can go places without people knowing I’m me.” He informs her, before his face takes on a serious look, as if it’s the biggest secret he has. “You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone about it, aside from Nate, okay?” His brows raise as if he’s trying to urge the point that it was secret and it needed to remain secret.
For spying, of course, but he doesn’t think she’s old enough for the truth of that, yet.
He leans back on his heels when she questions what his favorite one is, his hand rising to rub at the stubble along his cheek, scratching along the edge of the scar that spans it as he hums and haws his thoughts. “I like them all… But if I had to choose one?” He considers her carefully, head tilting slightly before he’s shuffling back from her to shift into his panther shift – the form taking on quite the fuzzy black and spotted hue in the place he had been kneeling before.
There’s a low rumble of what could only be considered a purr that slips from the panther’s throat as he steps forward, pressing his blocky, fuzzy head into Kamaria’s side in a soft and gentle nuzzle.
every whisper of every waking hour, i'm choosing my confessions
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.
