SuNjATA
the flood
He agrees with the idea, with the way that it seems like they’re just sitting in wait. It reminds him of staying in the bunkers back home, in the quell of riots and an ever charging force of officers to conceal the rebellion deep within the bones of every shop, store, restaurant. They were infiltrated everywhere, and when the news would break that something was going to happen, well… They did exactly this. Waiting.
He snorts and shakes his head, uncertain what the monsters would do toobut writing in blood is apparently one of them.
But then Sunjata is shifting, trading tattooed skin for feathers, steel eyes for navy. And he preens slightly at the attention, beak parting in what could be misconstrued as a smirk. And yeah, maybe instead of a flamingo, he could imagine Oliver as some sort of mouse, something small and easy to hide away and wait things out based on how this conversation has gone.
His head dips in agreement that he can hear Oliver, that he can understand the blonde man. “Yes.” He replies in a very avian manner. Had he been any other kind of bird, no, but macaws and parrots were very good at mimicking sounds, and putting it together makes it rather broken, but it makes sense. He can’t hold solid conversations with this broken common tongue, but it’s still better than nothing.
As Oliver offers his hand, Sunjata nudges it with his beak briefly, pushing it aside as he extends his wings and swoops up into the room, gaining the altitude needed before he lands on Oliver’s shoulder as though the young man is some sort of pirate. He folds his wings back down and glances toward Oliver with a beaky grin.
He snorts and shakes his head, uncertain what the monsters would do too
But then Sunjata is shifting, trading tattooed skin for feathers, steel eyes for navy. And he preens slightly at the attention, beak parting in what could be misconstrued as a smirk. And yeah, maybe instead of a flamingo, he could imagine Oliver as some sort of mouse, something small and easy to hide away and wait things out based on how this conversation has gone.
His head dips in agreement that he can hear Oliver, that he can understand the blonde man. “Yes.” He replies in a very avian manner. Had he been any other kind of bird, no, but macaws and parrots were very good at mimicking sounds, and putting it together makes it rather broken, but it makes sense. He can’t hold solid conversations with this broken common tongue, but it’s still better than nothing.
As Oliver offers his hand, Sunjata nudges it with his beak briefly, pushing it aside as he extends his wings and swoops up into the room, gaining the altitude needed before he lands on Oliver’s shoulder as though the young man is some sort of pirate. He folds his wings back down and glances toward Oliver with a beaky grin.
this ain't no place for no hero
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.
