SUNJATA
The dragon calms a small amount, but Jata is not too much of an idiot to pretend it’s safe. Instead his eyes shift to her, while she speaks — and he finds it to be true, deep down, that he hadn’t intended it, hadn’t reached for the knife that severs and tears. But he has, and he is here now raining their contents down upon her. He bites his lip again, a small scab that had formed from that night — that night — when wonderful, terrible things had happened.
Her her words shift the narrative he tells her, showing him how much of a mistake it was, and he shakes his head, another hand running up to brush along his hair — it does not matter what you want, idiot boy.
“I am not trying to wound you.” He begins again, recalling the night not long ago — broken glass, trances, and shoving the poor midwife from her own home to protect, to save, to lay with another. Had it been any other person he wouldn’t have cared. But he did, he does. But again, it does not matter. “I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted it to come to this.” The words jumble together, his accent slipping through thicker, fuller, of a home Phoebe would never see. It’s not like he wants her to see it, anyway, that deep dark blue part of him.
“I am not naive enough to think that, Phoebe.” He tells her. “I want you to know that I am still here for you if you need help, even if it hurts.”
Her her words shift the narrative he tells her, showing him how much of a mistake it was, and he shakes his head, another hand running up to brush along his hair — it does not matter what you want, idiot boy.
“I am not trying to wound you.” He begins again, recalling the night not long ago — broken glass, trances, and shoving the poor midwife from her own home to protect, to save, to lay with another. Had it been any other person he wouldn’t have cared. But he did, he does. But again, it does not matter. “I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted it to come to this.” The words jumble together, his accent slipping through thicker, fuller, of a home Phoebe would never see. It’s not like he wants her to see it, anyway, that deep dark blue part of him.
“I am not naive enough to think that, Phoebe.” He tells her. “I want you to know that I am still here for you if you need help, even if it hurts.”
the deeper you dig, the darker it gets
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.
