SuNjATA
the flood
Accepting the idea of questions unleashes a barrage of them – some of them he’s not fully prepared or willing to answer, but regardless he certainly tries to answer what he could. So he settles with the glass moving between his hands as if he’s rolling it between the palms of his hands, steel gaze lingering on Quanil. “I didn’t run a bar, no.” He offers with an easy smile. “I sort of worked in one though. My ex-girlfriend was the daughter of the bar owner.” He answers eventually, mulling over the words, refraining from looking over to the lantern hanging in a square on the back wall among others. “The bar didn’t really have a name either, it was part of a rebellion so they often kept a low profile.” An easy explanation, a wave of his hand before he takes a sip from the glass.
“I didn’t have a griffin there. Though my family had dogs… We didn’t have any creatures like dragons or griffins or things like the Luxere.” He chuckles lightly to that. “There wasn’t any magic or shape shifters or ascended anything. We were all Accepted, all the time.” A rise and fall of his shoulders.
“I didn’t have a griffin there. Though my family had dogs… We didn’t have any creatures like dragons or griffins or things like the Luxere.” He chuckles lightly to that. “There wasn’t any magic or shape shifters or ascended anything. We were all Accepted, all the time.” A rise and fall of his shoulders.
ain't no rest for the wicked
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.
