right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold
It’s almost like he’s wearing a turtleneck, with how well Isla has bandaged him up. He’s healing well enough, despite his exhaustion, despite the bags under his eyes, despite the way his soul is heavy and he’s grieving. But he’s tried to keep busy until Nate’s back, until they can depart back toward King’s End and Sunjata can throw himself wholeheartedly into Nate and bandage the pain and hollowness in his bones.
For now, though, it’s busy work. Another day of idly helping Isla in the Infirmary only to keep his mind off of things. And when that’s done? Well, he passes by the Settlement and the shops outside, some he feels like he hasn’t seen in a very long time. Some of them are packing up for the night now that the sun has set, but Sunjata simply keeps his hands shoved in his pockets, perusing the ones that remain open.
A mixture of different types of jewelry, some with woven gloves, some with scarves. And while snow does continue to paint the Grounds in its cold embrace, Sunjata finds for the first time ever that he likes the snow. The cold gives him something else to focus on, the bite and tenderness to his fingertips, especially when he reaches out to lift a necklace on a silver string, feeling the cold sharp and intense on the pads of his scarred hand, working his jaw hard enough that the scar along his cheek tugs and pulls.
For now, though, it’s busy work. Another day of idly helping Isla in the Infirmary only to keep his mind off of things. And when that’s done? Well, he passes by the Settlement and the shops outside, some he feels like he hasn’t seen in a very long time. Some of them are packing up for the night now that the sun has set, but Sunjata simply keeps his hands shoved in his pockets, perusing the ones that remain open.
A mixture of different types of jewelry, some with woven gloves, some with scarves. And while snow does continue to paint the Grounds in its cold embrace, Sunjata finds for the first time ever that he likes the snow. The cold gives him something else to focus on, the bite and tenderness to his fingertips, especially when he reaches out to lift a necklace on a silver string, feeling the cold sharp and intense on the pads of his scarred hand, working his jaw hard enough that the scar along his cheek tugs and pulls.
you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone
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.
