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
Her amusement does manage to spark the briefest hint of a smile on his face, and he gives her a deeper nod with his horned head. But he sinks deeper until the water rests just under his chin as he questions her, as to why she chose to keep her gift a secret, and well… He doesn’t expect the answer she gives. His gaze remains on her, on the quiet beginnings, of pious men.
His gaze narrows a bit further as she speaks further, mentioning the lashing, about how it was a sin to use, and his stomach churns as he scans her, ensuring she’s okay. He exhales a shuddering sigh, dipping himself further into the water to cover his head before he rises slightly again, reaching up to brush the water from a dark gaze again, shaking his head slightly as the water drips from hair and horns alike, not understanding the thought process with that.
A five year old.
He doesn’t remember how old he was when his started, but it had been prolonged, over years and years, a detail he likes to forget often enough. The scars no longer remain on his body, but the scars on his mind remain. “You should use it.” He tells her, hoarsely, avoiding his gaze as he looks over to the water rippling and reflecting the sunlight along her bright hair.
Leaning forward a bit, he clenches his jaw briefly, wondering if he should tell her or not – only to recall that he’d already told her far more than he had anticipated already. And she hadn’t used it against him. “My father was the Arbiter, back in Korofi. Kind of the equivalent of a king I guess, here, but only for the county we lived in.” He begins, dark gaze sweeping over her briefly. “But he too was difficult and stubborn and set in the old ways. He didn’t want a soft child for a boy who was supposed to take his place. I couldn’t tell if he hoped I’d drown when I turned six and they tossed me in the floodwaters, or if he saw the potential in my survival.” A muscle feathers in his jaw. “But he would… do that to me too, if I refused to do something he asked.” He scans her gaze briefly, a small detail he’d never told anyone else – though Phoebe definitely had the idea of it. "I refused a lot of things." Mostly the more difficult things, the tasks and events he wasn't prepared to handle.
“So. After everything, I worked on a way to fight back that would leave him unsuspecting of it. Your magic, despite how the gods view it here, I think is a gift. And you should use it, learn to master it.” An unhidden gleam in his eye that seems to scream that he’d been weak before, and he’d learned to try and keep people from forcing him into situations. Yet here he was, a slip up, a weakness, married to a woman who’d managed to pull the right strings.
His gaze narrows a bit further as she speaks further, mentioning the lashing, about how it was a sin to use, and his stomach churns as he scans her, ensuring she’s okay. He exhales a shuddering sigh, dipping himself further into the water to cover his head before he rises slightly again, reaching up to brush the water from a dark gaze again, shaking his head slightly as the water drips from hair and horns alike, not understanding the thought process with that.
A five year old.
He doesn’t remember how old he was when his started, but it had been prolonged, over years and years, a detail he likes to forget often enough. The scars no longer remain on his body, but the scars on his mind remain. “You should use it.” He tells her, hoarsely, avoiding his gaze as he looks over to the water rippling and reflecting the sunlight along her bright hair.
Leaning forward a bit, he clenches his jaw briefly, wondering if he should tell her or not – only to recall that he’d already told her far more than he had anticipated already. And she hadn’t used it against him. “My father was the Arbiter, back in Korofi. Kind of the equivalent of a king I guess, here, but only for the county we lived in.” He begins, dark gaze sweeping over her briefly. “But he too was difficult and stubborn and set in the old ways. He didn’t want a soft child for a boy who was supposed to take his place. I couldn’t tell if he hoped I’d drown when I turned six and they tossed me in the floodwaters, or if he saw the potential in my survival.” A muscle feathers in his jaw. “But he would… do that to me too, if I refused to do something he asked.” He scans her gaze briefly, a small detail he’d never told anyone else – though Phoebe definitely had the idea of it. "I refused a lot of things." Mostly the more difficult things, the tasks and events he wasn't prepared to handle.
“So. After everything, I worked on a way to fight back that would leave him unsuspecting of it. Your magic, despite how the gods view it here, I think is a gift. And you should use it, learn to master it.” An unhidden gleam in his eye that seems to scream that he’d been weak before, and he’d learned to try and keep people from forcing him into situations. Yet here he was, a slip up, a weakness, married to a woman who’d managed to pull the right strings.
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.
