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 few more moment of scribbling down a few things after Hotaru’s spoken before he’s lifting his gaze to meet her as she turns toward him – however much of a fraction it might be. He tries to rein in his feelings, his thoughts, keeping himself closed off from her in an edge of concentration that certainly has a beading of sweat building on his brow that he wipes away after a moment.
He works at his jaw as he always does, waiting for her to answer the question over Deimos’ invisibility, wondering whether or not it’s something to consider when it comes to her safety. And so he nods again, scratching down a few more notes into his paper, before he’s leaning back and stretching one of his long legs out in front of him.
Fair enough. He says, losing any fight and argument within him (not like it matters in the future anyway, when the Flood becomes nothing more than a shell of himself given the circumstances). And so, Sunjata watches her a few moments longer, heaving a heavy sigh and moves to stand, loosening the hold he has on his emotions just a fraction as it begins to slip.
She’ll feel the tinge of paranoia, the distrust, lining the edge of the feeling that’s the most prevalent – the sharp, pointed edges of a fractured heart and a fracturing soul all the same. I have what I need, so I’ll leave you be. Is it enough? No, not at all, but he’s got nothing else to go off of, and frankly he’d rather stop while he’s ahead.
He turns to leave after gathering his things, and he lingers by the door a brief moment, closing his emotions off again – fingers tapping on the edge of the doorframe. It seems like he might say something, lips parting as if he’s forgetting not to use his voice, but he realizes it shortly after with the way the thought of talking burns and he can’t bring himself to say anything through the bond again.
So Sunjata withdraws, pulling himself away from the door and back out into the rest of the jail, leaving Hotaru alone (at least for the moment).
- FINNNNN
He works at his jaw as he always does, waiting for her to answer the question over Deimos’ invisibility, wondering whether or not it’s something to consider when it comes to her safety. And so he nods again, scratching down a few more notes into his paper, before he’s leaning back and stretching one of his long legs out in front of him.
Fair enough. He says, losing any fight and argument within him (not like it matters in the future anyway, when the Flood becomes nothing more than a shell of himself given the circumstances). And so, Sunjata watches her a few moments longer, heaving a heavy sigh and moves to stand, loosening the hold he has on his emotions just a fraction as it begins to slip.
She’ll feel the tinge of paranoia, the distrust, lining the edge of the feeling that’s the most prevalent – the sharp, pointed edges of a fractured heart and a fracturing soul all the same. I have what I need, so I’ll leave you be. Is it enough? No, not at all, but he’s got nothing else to go off of, and frankly he’d rather stop while he’s ahead.
He turns to leave after gathering his things, and he lingers by the door a brief moment, closing his emotions off again – fingers tapping on the edge of the doorframe. It seems like he might say something, lips parting as if he’s forgetting not to use his voice, but he realizes it shortly after with the way the thought of talking burns and he can’t bring himself to say anything through the bond again.
So Sunjata withdraws, pulling himself away from the door and back out into the rest of the jail, leaving Hotaru alone (at least for the moment).
- FINNNNN
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.
