SuNjATA
the flood
“Well, normal me versus the blighted me, tends to think a bit more toward precaution.” He retorts, a dark brow lifting momentarily before she corrects him to say is and not would have. Something he can’t respond to other than nod quietly in silent agreement, rocking on his heels briefly. “Still, I’m sorry.” And he is, that she doesn’t get to experience. The fact that it’s his only adds to that sentiment. He’s not pretending, nor should he have to.
As she mentions that she’s not concerned about the world they find themselves in, his hands finally leave his pockets to fold across his chest, wincing lightly as he forgets about the tattoo with the movement brushed against it when he leans against one of the shelves. “I’ve seen a bit of the Greatwood now. I met Safrin, actually. She made me Attuned.” He offers her, in case she had thought he had hid the bird form from her in the time they were together. “I suppose I’m doing a bit of self-searching myself.”
Because gods don’t they both need it.
His reply to her gets answered in the way he expects it to, and his head lightly tilts as he leans against the shelf a bit more. There’s nothing he can really say to it, nothing he can add that won’t bring up the rift between them, and for a moment he thinks he might stay silent. But he can’t, instead he puffs out another small sigh. “Doesn’t mean there won’t ever be. I came in pretty recently compared to you and Remi and many of these other Outlanders.” He says, refraining from tacking on ‘I was there for you.’ Because it doesn’t matter now, does it?
As she mentions that she’s not concerned about the world they find themselves in, his hands finally leave his pockets to fold across his chest, wincing lightly as he forgets about the tattoo with the movement brushed against it when he leans against one of the shelves. “I’ve seen a bit of the Greatwood now. I met Safrin, actually. She made me Attuned.” He offers her, in case she had thought he had hid the bird form from her in the time they were together. “I suppose I’m doing a bit of self-searching myself.”
Because gods don’t they both need it.
His reply to her gets answered in the way he expects it to, and his head lightly tilts as he leans against the shelf a bit more. There’s nothing he can really say to it, nothing he can add that won’t bring up the rift between them, and for a moment he thinks he might stay silent. But he can’t, instead he puffs out another small sigh. “Doesn’t mean there won’t ever be. I came in pretty recently compared to you and Remi and many of these other Outlanders.” He says, refraining from tacking on ‘I was there for you.’ Because it doesn’t matter now, does it?
get a load of this trainwreck
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.
