SUNJATA
i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring
and meeting all my vices in the ring
He does half expect her to turn it around on him – as everyone else did. As Phoebe did regularly, as his father had his entire life, as Loren consistently did. But he doesn’t expect her to drift closer, to hear the term on her tongue, to hear her try to soothe him. It doesn’t work, not as he’s stuck on this path, not as he’s sure the only way he’s going out is by his own recklessness. He’s never expected a long life, had expected to die at seventeen and made no plans thereafter. And here he is, almost a decade later, in the same listless ocean, drifting without a thing in sight to tether him to.
Perhaps he’s destined to drift away as an anchor, stuck at the bottom of a raging ocean, until everyone forgets he’s been there, until they stop looking.
He shivers slightly when her fingers touch his stubbled cheek, his gaze finding hers as she finds his, something shuttering within them as she continues. The idea that it would get better is one he’d hoped to see for years, only to have it fall back, to see it blow up. “I’ve learned to not get my hopes up.” He tells her hoarsely, honestly. He doesn’t know what would make him happy, perhaps the consistent drive of floating from person to person, bed to bed, alcohol at night and cigarette smoke clinging to his jacket. Perhaps those might be a few things, only he’s not allowed that either. Not with the illness in his lungs, the rasp to his breath if he takes too deep of an inhale.
He reaches out then, trying to brush her ivory hair from her face again, to tuck behind her ear as he tries to give her an equally small smile. The flirtations, the jests, it was all something to give him a different feeling from being lost, a tether in the dark however fraying, however temporary they may be. “And I think true happiness is a far cry from being attainable after all.” His gaze breaks from hers to run a hand through his hair, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. “So I take what little bits I can get and hope it fills enough until the next.” Shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, the hand that had ran through his hair now settles along the scar to his throat, the one that should have killed him but didn’t.
Perhaps he’d be better off if it had.
Perhaps he’s destined to drift away as an anchor, stuck at the bottom of a raging ocean, until everyone forgets he’s been there, until they stop looking.
He shivers slightly when her fingers touch his stubbled cheek, his gaze finding hers as she finds his, something shuttering within them as she continues. The idea that it would get better is one he’d hoped to see for years, only to have it fall back, to see it blow up. “I’ve learned to not get my hopes up.” He tells her hoarsely, honestly. He doesn’t know what would make him happy, perhaps the consistent drive of floating from person to person, bed to bed, alcohol at night and cigarette smoke clinging to his jacket. Perhaps those might be a few things, only he’s not allowed that either. Not with the illness in his lungs, the rasp to his breath if he takes too deep of an inhale.
He reaches out then, trying to brush her ivory hair from her face again, to tuck behind her ear as he tries to give her an equally small smile. The flirtations, the jests, it was all something to give him a different feeling from being lost, a tether in the dark however fraying, however temporary they may be. “And I think true happiness is a far cry from being attainable after all.” His gaze breaks from hers to run a hand through his hair, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. “So I take what little bits I can get and hope it fills enough until the next.” Shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, the hand that had ran through his hair now settles along the scar to his throat, the one that should have killed him but didn’t.
Perhaps he’d be better off if it had.
so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me
there ain't a casket strong enough for me
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.
