?
SUNJATA
SUNJATA
He didn’t presume to try and understand what she would do – but he knew himself and the type of person he was, and he knew that she likely wouldn’t be happy with the result when she found out (if she ever found out). But it had nothing to do with what he did or didn’t feel, but simply him in general. The anger tenses the air, and he’s suddenly so glad Roana isn’t here for it – for his inability to confess to her something she clearly wanted, but it hurt him too much to admit it, to claim it in such a way that would result in the very same thing he had fought so hard to prevent.
But she says nothing as he rambles, as he tells her how he shows his feelings, hoping she understands that and can see it the way he can. Eyes drift back toward her, a hardened edge to the silver as he waits for his words to hit – for his own venom to combat her own, to show her how much she likely wouldn’t want to stick with that for the rest of her life. But instead of responding with words, she’s quick, and before he knows it, his head swings to the side and his cheek grows red, and his eyes dart to her in complete surprise. Teeth grit, muscle feathering in his cheek, he’s speechless and uncertain what to do next.
His temper flares, rears its head, until she breaks out of whatever kind of fog had clouded over her. And suddenly she’s gaping at him as he reaches up to touch his cheek. His fingertips are light as they reach for the feeling of the sting, a small amount of blood beginning to brim from the scratch on his cheek, and he pulls his hand away to inspect it, tearing his eyes away from her while she apologizes. It isn’t much, and her admission of not knowing what came over him quells the anger just enough for him to exhale a sigh and wipe the blood away before running a hand through his hair and his face, trailing a bit more of the small amount of blood down his cheek like some form of warpaint.
His eyes soften as he looks to her and sees just how much it has affected her, and he reaches out tenderly to grab her by the arm and pull her into him. He says nothing at first, instead, content to pull her into his lap and hold her after she realizes what she’s done. “It’s not you.” He finally says after a moment, voice rough and tired, holding her tight to him as he regulates his breathing and quenches the roiling frustration within him.
But she says nothing as he rambles, as he tells her how he shows his feelings, hoping she understands that and can see it the way he can. Eyes drift back toward her, a hardened edge to the silver as he waits for his words to hit – for his own venom to combat her own, to show her how much she likely wouldn’t want to stick with that for the rest of her life. But instead of responding with words, she’s quick, and before he knows it, his head swings to the side and his cheek grows red, and his eyes dart to her in complete surprise. Teeth grit, muscle feathering in his cheek, he’s speechless and uncertain what to do next.
His temper flares, rears its head, until she breaks out of whatever kind of fog had clouded over her. And suddenly she’s gaping at him as he reaches up to touch his cheek. His fingertips are light as they reach for the feeling of the sting, a small amount of blood beginning to brim from the scratch on his cheek, and he pulls his hand away to inspect it, tearing his eyes away from her while she apologizes. It isn’t much, and her admission of not knowing what came over him quells the anger just enough for him to exhale a sigh and wipe the blood away before running a hand through his hair and his face, trailing a bit more of the small amount of blood down his cheek like some form of warpaint.
His eyes soften as he looks to her and sees just how much it has affected her, and he reaches out tenderly to grab her by the arm and pull her into him. He says nothing at first, instead, content to pull her into his lap and hold her after she realizes what she’s done. “It’s not you.” He finally says after a moment, voice rough and tired, holding her tight to him as he regulates his breathing and quenches the roiling frustration within him.
you were forged in fire
& you rose from the ashes
murder and mercy rolled into one
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.
