// the edge is getting closer, it's a long spiral down. it's so fun to fly 'til you hit the ground
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //
He is forced to wait. Forced to go against his gut instinct of simply flying to Stormbreak and demanding that they give him his husband’s body. So he does what Sunjata’s always been good at.
He copes with it.
Specifically this time with a bottle he’d taken from the VlamVloed after ensuring that the twins were watched and taken care of, because he’s likely not coming back tonight. The bottle’s half gone already, his fingers drumming along the neck of it, his wedding ring clinking against the glass as he peers into the dark below. The sun has just set and it’s certainly 5 o’ clock somewhere, despite how he’s started much earlier than this.
One hand braces against the edge of the bone bridge, his clothes a bit crumpled, his shirt ruffled and the first two or three buttons unbuttoned. He feels like he looks like a wreck. It’d be accurate. It’s exactly how he feels.
To stave off the thoughts rebounding in his mind, he takes another swig from the bottle and turns away from the dark depths below. He could probably fly down there, explore what it was like to be swallowed up by the abyss, it might be the closest thing to how the cage around his heart feels. But he doesn’t. And instead, he sinks to the ground of the edge, his back pressed against the side of the bone bridge, the bottle set on the ground beside him as he runs his hands through his shorter hair (he’s cut it since Longheat, when the temperature had been just too much to keep it the mane of hair he’d had before), but it’s still enough to be able to tighten his fingers into, taking the moment to try and inhale a deep breath, long legs drawn into his chest.
He copes with it.
Specifically this time with a bottle he’d taken from the VlamVloed after ensuring that the twins were watched and taken care of, because he’s likely not coming back tonight. The bottle’s half gone already, his fingers drumming along the neck of it, his wedding ring clinking against the glass as he peers into the dark below. The sun has just set and it’s certainly 5 o’ clock somewhere, despite how he’s started much earlier than this.
One hand braces against the edge of the bone bridge, his clothes a bit crumpled, his shirt ruffled and the first two or three buttons unbuttoned. He feels like he looks like a wreck. It’d be accurate. It’s exactly how he feels.
To stave off the thoughts rebounding in his mind, he takes another swig from the bottle and turns away from the dark depths below. He could probably fly down there, explore what it was like to be swallowed up by the abyss, it might be the closest thing to how the cage around his heart feels. But he doesn’t. And instead, he sinks to the ground of the edge, his back pressed against the side of the bone bridge, the bottle set on the ground beside him as he runs his hands through his shorter hair (he’s cut it since Longheat, when the temperature had been just too much to keep it the mane of hair he’d had before), but it’s still enough to be able to tighten his fingers into, taking the moment to try and inhale a deep breath, long legs drawn into his chest.
it's hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands
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.
