you were forged in fire // and you rose from the ashes
murder and mercy rolled into one
Another accented voice springs from behind the door, and his head lifts right when relief floods through him, however upon the door open, Remi would likely find the scene gruesome, a snarling Phoebe bound and at the Alchemists request, pulled into the shop. The man speaks, and Phoebe begins to tug, but he manages to plant his feet, desperately liking toward the Alchemist with almost experienced steel eyes to handling this. After all, he has been all morning.
He lets her slide to the floor, keeping a hand on her arms to keep her from running. “She needs to be restrained.” Sunjata’s own accented voice comes through the air. “Do not get close to her mouth.” Perhaps there’s a bit of a bite to his own words with it, but he shakes his head after. His free hand coming to rub at his temple, before he spots a chair of sorts, pulling her over to it and tearing off another piece of the fabric from his torn shirt as he sets her into it, tying it around her midsection to the chair.
When he thinks she’s restrained enough, he glances back to Remi with an exhausted defeated look, not sure where to go from here. Not sure who Isla is. Not sure of anything anymore. So instead, he slides his torn shirt off, using it to wipe away the black on his cheek and neck, left over blood that hadn’t quite dried yet. He turns his back to the Alchemist for a brief moment, winged tattoos sliding up his shoulders to meet a compass that in this moment points to Phoebe. “I’m Sunjata. I was planting a rose at her clinic when she attacked me.” He pauses before he turns back to the Alchemist, worry and frustration and exhaustion conveyed.
He lets her slide to the floor, keeping a hand on her arms to keep her from running. “She needs to be restrained.” Sunjata’s own accented voice comes through the air. “Do not get close to her mouth.” Perhaps there’s a bit of a bite to his own words with it, but he shakes his head after. His free hand coming to rub at his temple, before he spots a chair of sorts, pulling her over to it and tearing off another piece of the fabric from his torn shirt as he sets her into it, tying it around her midsection to the chair.
When he thinks she’s restrained enough, he glances back to Remi with an exhausted defeated look, not sure where to go from here. Not sure who Isla is. Not sure of anything anymore. So instead, he slides his torn shirt off, using it to wipe away the black on his cheek and neck, left over blood that hadn’t quite dried yet. He turns his back to the Alchemist for a brief moment, winged tattoos sliding up his shoulders to meet a compass that in this moment points to Phoebe. “I’m Sunjata. I was planting a rose at her clinic when she attacked me.” He pauses before he turns back to the Alchemist, worry and frustration and exhaustion conveyed.
which way is up?
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.
