they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes
he's a demon, with a crown of blood
At her initial comment, he wants to roll his eyes, but he refrains just enough to stare at her with a flat, unimpressed look. “I know what it means.” He replies gruffly, until she pins him with a look of fire and daggers, and the blight within him relishes with it. He turns to face her a bit more fully, leaning back against the awning and lifting a boot against the porch wood, taking another drag from the cigarette as she snaps to him.
And the smile he gives her after is something cold as he lifts his head up and looks down to her. “I never said anything about blaming. Are you happy about this?” He manages, rather calmly, but his eyes are still sharp as he watches her. The blight courses and rears its head a bit harder than it had before, with the waning alcohol and waning tonic. “In all of my years, I’ve been loyal until this place. Until you, the blight, the alcohol, the tonic. All of it.” He hisses. “You said it yourself, it makes you say and do things you do and don’t mean. The blame is entirely on me, but if I was normal – like I was in Korofi, like I was before all of this, it would have never happened. You left me, after all.” It’s a rushed explanation, full of sharp words and a thickening accent.
And he steps a bit closer to her, flicking the ash from the cigarette while he does so and looks down to her. “So. I’ll ask again. What was in it?” A gravel, rough bite to his voice. “Because what I told you in there I have only told a select few.”
And the smile he gives her after is something cold as he lifts his head up and looks down to her. “I never said anything about blaming. Are you happy about this?” He manages, rather calmly, but his eyes are still sharp as he watches her. The blight courses and rears its head a bit harder than it had before, with the waning alcohol and waning tonic. “In all of my years, I’ve been loyal until this place. Until you, the blight, the alcohol, the tonic. All of it.” He hisses. “You said it yourself, it makes you say and do things you do and don’t mean. The blame is entirely on me, but if I was normal – like I was in Korofi, like I was before all of this, it would have never happened. You left me, after all.” It’s a rushed explanation, full of sharp words and a thickening accent.
And he steps a bit closer to her, flicking the ash from the cigarette while he does so and looks down to her. “So. I’ll ask again. What was in it?” A gravel, rough bite to his voice. “Because what I told you in there I have only told a select few.”
does it look like he's still under your control?
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.
