// maybe we're endless, maybe we're infinite //
She aims to read him, but he encloses that indifferent gleam upon his face. A reflection of Korofi and the mask he often wore – one very few saw through these days. Hotaru would know, of course, often dragging him out of the perfect unbothered exterior he provided others with. For now, though, it comes off as a protection, as if shielding her from the truth of the matter.
She draws more cards and his gaze follows alongside each one – the devil and entrapment, and his gaze doesn’t lift while she offers her explanation. “Yes.” Gone are the softer accented tones, the less formal slang, replaced with the more regal tone of that Korofian noble’s mask. His gaze doesn’t lift to meet hers, not as he continues to chew on the inside of his cheek.
His father had done everything he could to make him a monster, and in some instances it had worked.
Only when the next cards are revealed and Alys’ gaze lifts to his, Sunjata’s follow suit – once easy steel shifts to a stormier, clouded front as he nods. “Safrin killed me. My father tried before then. I've had more near-deaths than I can count.” The only one that had been successful thus far was Safrin’s, if it hadn’t have been for Ronin taking pity.
Still, with so many deaths and the multitude of more near deaths, it’s no wonder the Flood harbors the scars he does, both physical and mental. It’s no wonder he reacts the way he has. And with all the honesty of things that have occurred here, to a complete stranger to him, there’s only trust that Alys can find out about these because of the woman at his side, squeezing his hand. After all, how many times had people used what they learned about him against him any chance they got?
A lot, frankly.
She draws more cards and his gaze follows alongside each one – the devil and entrapment, and his gaze doesn’t lift while she offers her explanation. “Yes.” Gone are the softer accented tones, the less formal slang, replaced with the more regal tone of that Korofian noble’s mask. His gaze doesn’t lift to meet hers, not as he continues to chew on the inside of his cheek.
His father had done everything he could to make him a monster, and in some instances it had worked.
Only when the next cards are revealed and Alys’ gaze lifts to his, Sunjata’s follow suit – once easy steel shifts to a stormier, clouded front as he nods. “Safrin killed me. My father tried before then. I've had more near-deaths than I can count.” The only one that had been successful thus far was Safrin’s, if it hadn’t have been for Ronin taking pity.
Still, with so many deaths and the multitude of more near deaths, it’s no wonder the Flood harbors the scars he does, both physical and mental. It’s no wonder he reacts the way he has. And with all the honesty of things that have occurred here, to a complete stranger to him, there’s only trust that Alys can find out about these because of the woman at his side, squeezing his hand. After all, how many times had people used what they learned about him against him any chance they got?
A lot, frankly.
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.
