SUNJATA
the flood
anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself
saving everybody else to save yourself
What is one life in comparison to two? Hell, even four if we count the companions? She doesn’t get it, she doesn’t understand that it would be easier if that were the case. If he had been the one to go instead of those so precious to so many around him. Who did he have, in the end? Her. Hotaru. Nate... The rest would likely not care, a passing note of ‘oh that’s terrible’. But Peter had a family, Adam had Amalia and his own makeshift family.
And what did he have?
The edge to her voice is heard but disregarded within his own sorrow, not finding it in him to put words through the tightness of his throat, the terrible dread. And what she tells him should ignite some sort of anger, some fury, some part of him that wants to scream that she doesn’t understand. But he can’t.
He gives no fight when she takes his head into her hands, forces him to look at her – and within those red rimmed eyes there’s nothing but a shattering grey hue of shadows, dark and so very much like he had been in Korofi after his trial, shut down, reserved, broken and fracturing apart at the seams. But she shakes him, tells him that he shouldn’t say it again, shouldn’t think it even.
But the thoughts are there, they’re always there. They will not go, no matter how hard he tries for it. Because this wasn’t the first time. So many times before had he regretted his very existence. His jaw clenches in her hands, keeping his mouth shut, but his gaze on her – looking, but not seeing her. He doesn’t find the words within him to argue with her.
He’s not sure how everything can go on the same as it always had been. He’d felt that way with Lusea once before and things had fit into place, but there were only so many times a person could break, piece themselves together with glue and tape, before the glue doesn’t work and the tape doesn’t stick anymore.
“Okay.”
And what did he have?
The edge to her voice is heard but disregarded within his own sorrow, not finding it in him to put words through the tightness of his throat, the terrible dread. And what she tells him should ignite some sort of anger, some fury, some part of him that wants to scream that she doesn’t understand. But he can’t.
He gives no fight when she takes his head into her hands, forces him to look at her – and within those red rimmed eyes there’s nothing but a shattering grey hue of shadows, dark and so very much like he had been in Korofi after his trial, shut down, reserved, broken and fracturing apart at the seams. But she shakes him, tells him that he shouldn’t say it again, shouldn’t think it even.
But the thoughts are there, they’re always there. They will not go, no matter how hard he tries for it. Because this wasn’t the first time. So many times before had he regretted his very existence. His jaw clenches in her hands, keeping his mouth shut, but his gaze on her – looking, but not seeing her. He doesn’t find the words within him to argue with her.
He’s not sure how everything can go on the same as it always had been. He’d felt that way with Lusea once before and things had fit into place, but there were only so many times a person could break, piece themselves together with glue and tape, before the glue doesn’t work and the tape doesn’t stick anymore.
“Okay.”
and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell
that's the story to tell
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.
