SUNJATA
i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind
i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
“Mmm, in a way it does.” Sunjata agrees, heaving a quiet sigh at the idea of Safrin yet again, refraining from letting anything slip from the mask he’s so carefully crafted of just what the thought of the starry goddess inspires in him. So instead, he focuses on the comment of the Ascended, of the monsters that have been banished as far as he’s been made aware of, his head bobbing in agreement at the idea of focusing on living instead of surviving.
That was the entire goal, was it not? “Many of the people in the Grounds lived in a barrier, kept from the outside world for centuries. It’s all been about comfort rather than survival now that the barrier is gone.” But Sunjata doesn’t entirely know what those times were like, with the barrier surrounding the Grounds. He’d arrived shortly after it had fallen, when the Greatwood was fresh and sparkling new, and storms blocked everyone from exploring the rest of the world.
His steel gaze finds her face when she mentions that she’s from a similar place, a small smile twisting up on the corner of his scarred lip. “Ah, relatable.” He rumbles with a soft chuckle, moving to lean his shoulder against the notice board, arms crossed along his chest, his right hand and arm completely covered in lines of lightning scarring. “Connected yet complete strangers.” That was more of his experience. He was rich, back in Korofi. The son of the Arbiter, poised to take the seat next. Only he hadn’t, he’d been a failure in his father’s eyes. He was connected to the world by an image carefully crafted for the outside world to see, yet nobody ever truly got to know him. “Do you miss it? The technology?”
That was the entire goal, was it not? “Many of the people in the Grounds lived in a barrier, kept from the outside world for centuries. It’s all been about comfort rather than survival now that the barrier is gone.” But Sunjata doesn’t entirely know what those times were like, with the barrier surrounding the Grounds. He’d arrived shortly after it had fallen, when the Greatwood was fresh and sparkling new, and storms blocked everyone from exploring the rest of the world.
His steel gaze finds her face when she mentions that she’s from a similar place, a small smile twisting up on the corner of his scarred lip. “Ah, relatable.” He rumbles with a soft chuckle, moving to lean his shoulder against the notice board, arms crossed along his chest, his right hand and arm completely covered in lines of lightning scarring. “Connected yet complete strangers.” That was more of his experience. He was rich, back in Korofi. The son of the Arbiter, poised to take the seat next. Only he hadn’t, he’d been a failure in his father’s eyes. He was connected to the world by an image carefully crafted for the outside world to see, yet nobody ever truly got to know him. “Do you miss it? The technology?”
so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me
well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
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.
