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?
He takes the apology and manages to even himself out with it – knowing deep down that Wessex’s goal wasn’t to try and prevent him from going fully, just that there needed to be a plan for it. So he sighs, lifts his hands to run alongside his face, tugging and pulling at the scar alongside his cheek before he settles down just enough to keep from shouting, to keep from letting the anger of the dragon spill out of his chest from his lips.
His hands lift higher, raking through his dark curls before settling on the back of his neck, his jaw working and teeth grinding together. “So the plan is to just… Wait?” There’s something tender in his voice as if that’s not the thing he wants to do – but already knowing it was likely for the best anyway. So instead, he chews the inside of his cheek, starts to imagine what kind of terrible things Stormbreak would try to do to his husband’s body, before he cuts those thoughts off rather quickly.
He concedes, it’s evident in how he carries himself, how the tension in his shoulders shifts toward something a hint more hunched, as if his chest has suddenly bloomed tightly and its painful for him to stand up fully. “I’m not… That’s not—” he cuts himself off, lips twisting as he turns away from Wessex, frowning deeply as he fights with himself. “I need a fucking drink is what I need.” Because rather than get into more shit if he's supposed to wait, he doesn't have to feel the rest of the world weighing down on him at the same time.
His hands lift higher, raking through his dark curls before settling on the back of his neck, his jaw working and teeth grinding together. “So the plan is to just… Wait?” There’s something tender in his voice as if that’s not the thing he wants to do – but already knowing it was likely for the best anyway. So instead, he chews the inside of his cheek, starts to imagine what kind of terrible things Stormbreak would try to do to his husband’s body, before he cuts those thoughts off rather quickly.
He concedes, it’s evident in how he carries himself, how the tension in his shoulders shifts toward something a hint more hunched, as if his chest has suddenly bloomed tightly and its painful for him to stand up fully. “I’m not… That’s not—” he cuts himself off, lips twisting as he turns away from Wessex, frowning deeply as he fights with himself. “I need a fucking drink is what I need.” Because rather than get into more shit if he's supposed to wait, he doesn't have to feel the rest of the world weighing down on him at the same time.
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.
