SuNjATA
the flood
He snorts at her first statement. It was possible that he wouldn’t have known of Jigano, had he not met the bars randomly along the side of the bone bridge, had the bard not come across him during the attempt and shoving mud out of the alleys and streets using magic and attuned forms. Regardless, he lets his steel gaze linger on her tattooed skin with amusement at it before he shakes his head no. “Don’t know everyone yet. A majority, sure, but I don’t know too many Naturals.” He rumbles. Some of them still didn’t quite take kindly to the Outlanders after everything.
He doesn’t blame them.
As soon as he gives her his name, she smiles a pretty and toothy smile that Sunjata reflects on his own face. “No, originally I came from a place called Korofi.” There’s a slight shrug at that. She wouldn’t know of it, but that doesn’t matter too much in the end. “Thank you.” He offers after a moment, a hum of a chuckle leaving him as she extends the vowels of his name. “Pleased to meet you too, Tarasha.” Her name comes off his tongue a bit differently than she had pronounced it, due to how his accent prefers to elongate certain vowels and combinations, but he hopes she doesn’t mind. But instead, the fae grasps his hand in both of hers and he aims to give her a light squeeze of greeting.
Next, however, is his attempt to show her how he does have wings, and he’s thoroughly amused by her interest, as she leans over the picnic of sorts to inspect him before he shifts back. But the question gives him a moment of pause, nodding before shifting back and pulling one of his loose wing feathers from his body. It wasn’t a flight feather, he’d be able to continue to fly. And besides, it was just a matter of time before it fell out anyway. He then shifts back to hand her the feather with a rogue crooked smile along his face. “Consider the first one a payment for the company and food.” He rumbles, pleased by the result.
He is interested to hear what she’s heard, and as she lists it out he listens diligently before snorting and shaking his head. “Not all of us.” He rumbles, he can’t say he wasn’t a murderer. He wasn’t one here, but his previous life had given him that title long before he knew of portals and magic. “The Ascended are those.” He offers with a small shrug. “I myself follow the old gods. Safrin made me Attuned.” He tells her, popping another fruit into his mouth and letting his gaze lift along her face in quiet question.
Until she catches the amusement he has in her being his first. “It’s not often someone gets to have a first with me.” He explains offhandedly, smiling lightly to her as Haai curls up in his lap.
He doesn’t blame them.
As soon as he gives her his name, she smiles a pretty and toothy smile that Sunjata reflects on his own face. “No, originally I came from a place called Korofi.” There’s a slight shrug at that. She wouldn’t know of it, but that doesn’t matter too much in the end. “Thank you.” He offers after a moment, a hum of a chuckle leaving him as she extends the vowels of his name. “Pleased to meet you too, Tarasha.” Her name comes off his tongue a bit differently than she had pronounced it, due to how his accent prefers to elongate certain vowels and combinations, but he hopes she doesn’t mind. But instead, the fae grasps his hand in both of hers and he aims to give her a light squeeze of greeting.
Next, however, is his attempt to show her how he does have wings, and he’s thoroughly amused by her interest, as she leans over the picnic of sorts to inspect him before he shifts back. But the question gives him a moment of pause, nodding before shifting back and pulling one of his loose wing feathers from his body. It wasn’t a flight feather, he’d be able to continue to fly. And besides, it was just a matter of time before it fell out anyway. He then shifts back to hand her the feather with a rogue crooked smile along his face. “Consider the first one a payment for the company and food.” He rumbles, pleased by the result.
He is interested to hear what she’s heard, and as she lists it out he listens diligently before snorting and shaking his head. “Not all of us.” He rumbles, he can’t say he wasn’t a murderer. He wasn’t one here, but his previous life had given him that title long before he knew of portals and magic. “The Ascended are those.” He offers with a small shrug. “I myself follow the old gods. Safrin made me Attuned.” He tells her, popping another fruit into his mouth and letting his gaze lift along her face in quiet question.
Until she catches the amusement he has in her being his first. “It’s not often someone gets to have a first with me.” He explains offhandedly, smiling lightly to her as Haai curls up in his lap.
if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?
would we fly?
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.
