SUNJATA
the flood
'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
He is tired, he supposes. Not too tired to try and think it through again and again. But it’s a subject he doesn’t want to dwell on – especially when it comes to spending the night in an unfamiliar place, where he knows he won’t get the rest he wants already. They haven’t even made it into the Inn yet, his gaze slipping from her to drift toward the door that she blocks with a hand, and he hums a quiet agreement without actually feeling it, as her hand comes away from the doorknob. He adjusts his hold on her, using his scar-free hand to open the door and step inside, heading straight for the inn keeper behind the counter.
Recognition sparks in the keep’s eyes and Sunjata slips that mask back into place – far easier when not looking at Isla, but she’d likely see the cracks in how the charming, roguish smile that crosses his face has no chance of meeting his eyes. “I know you’re probably quite full tonight,” given the Hanged Man’s party, of course “any chance you have an extra room to spare?” He asks, wondering if his prior status as Governor (and the times he’d personally blocked up Haulani with sandbags for the monsoon season) would give him any perks.
It appears to have worked, however, because the keep nods and hands him a key and Sunjata murmurs a grateful thank you to him as he turns away from it to let the mask fall, heading to the stairs to take them up toward a higher level, for a room on the corner with windows that overlook the moonlit ocean. He sets Isla down right before he sticks the key into the knob to open it, holding the door for her to slip in. “I wasn’t expecting such a nice spot so last minute.” Sunjata murmurs absently, stepping in after Isla and closing and locking the door behind them.
Recognition sparks in the keep’s eyes and Sunjata slips that mask back into place – far easier when not looking at Isla, but she’d likely see the cracks in how the charming, roguish smile that crosses his face has no chance of meeting his eyes. “I know you’re probably quite full tonight,” given the Hanged Man’s party, of course “any chance you have an extra room to spare?” He asks, wondering if his prior status as Governor (and the times he’d personally blocked up Haulani with sandbags for the monsoon season) would give him any perks.
It appears to have worked, however, because the keep nods and hands him a key and Sunjata murmurs a grateful thank you to him as he turns away from it to let the mask fall, heading to the stairs to take them up toward a higher level, for a room on the corner with windows that overlook the moonlit ocean. He sets Isla down right before he sticks the key into the knob to open it, holding the door for her to slip in. “I wasn’t expecting such a nice spot so last minute.” Sunjata murmurs absently, stepping in after Isla and closing and locking the door behind them.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do
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.
