SUNJATA
Oh Frey, what have I done indeed.
It’s the day of the wedding, and is it an understatement to say that he can’t wait until it’s over? That when he dressed that day in his blue suit, fixed the tie along his neck, hiding tattoos that bear within, and tried his damndest to keep the horns away, that it had been an act of gods to keep him from snarling in his own frustrations and spite. Everyone could tell him he was an idiot, he didn’t care anymore. Because after today, after that ring gets placed on his finger, it’s over isn’t it?
The game had been played, and he’d lost. Badly. A captive of Phoebe’s making, brought forth by his pride, his wanting to call a bluff. And here we are.
She had planned the details, planned everything aside from the custom he’ll impart on her from his home. And when he finds his way to the Oasis, gods an entire year since they’d met initially and his life had taken some strange rollercoaster since, he can’t help but to let his lip feather at the blues and pinks. So light, so bright, when he feels nothing more than a shadowed emptiness threatening to swallow him whole.
In case it’s been missed, he hates weddings. This only cements that thought, let alone imagining him at the helm.
He sighs a crackling sound as he steps to the altar, Phoebe nowhere to be seen just yet. But that’s fine, he frankly could care less. He smooths his jacket down, grasping for a blue cloth in the pocket that he’ll need for later, pulls out the rings to solidify the marriage. And well, he lets everyone else arrive as his jaw clenches and unclenches, waiting for his funeral to start.
It’s the day of the wedding, and is it an understatement to say that he can’t wait until it’s over? That when he dressed that day in his blue suit, fixed the tie along his neck, hiding tattoos that bear within, and tried his damndest to keep the horns away, that it had been an act of gods to keep him from snarling in his own frustrations and spite. Everyone could tell him he was an idiot, he didn’t care anymore. Because after today, after that ring gets placed on his finger, it’s over isn’t it?
The game had been played, and he’d lost. Badly. A captive of Phoebe’s making, brought forth by his pride, his wanting to call a bluff. And here we are.
She had planned the details, planned everything aside from the custom he’ll impart on her from his home. And when he finds his way to the Oasis, gods an entire year since they’d met initially and his life had taken some strange rollercoaster since, he can’t help but to let his lip feather at the blues and pinks. So light, so bright, when he feels nothing more than a shadowed emptiness threatening to swallow him whole.
In case it’s been missed, he hates weddings. This only cements that thought, let alone imagining him at the helm.
He sighs a crackling sound as he steps to the altar, Phoebe nowhere to be seen just yet. But that’s fine, he frankly could care less. He smooths his jacket down, grasping for a blue cloth in the pocket that he’ll need for later, pulls out the rings to solidify the marriage. And well, he lets everyone else arrive as his jaw clenches and unclenches, waiting for his funeral to start.
you made your choice.
do you regret it yet?
do you regret it yet?
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.
