SUNJATA
the flood
anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself
saving everybody else to save yourself
He won’t respond, won’t ignite that flame within him, because there’s nothing there. Shattered as he is, he lets her pull him into her shoulder again, his forehead resting against it as he hides himself away once more, closing off, shutting down, as if he’s trying to become as small as possible. But she doesn’t argue with his okay, his half answer, an answer he knows he won’t keep or do. How could she? She wouldn’t change his mind, nobody had.
It’s been there from the start, since he was six years old to sneak a peak at the trial, to see the horror and bloodshed and destruction that he was meant to partake in. That was the day he’d fallen out of the tree, and he’d thought the pain of breaking his leg was the worst it could get. But it got worse, it always did.
Her tears are felt, but he’s numb to them now. Numb to nearly everything, despite the warmth of the bath he still feels frigid inside. An icy core of nothingness that he can’t get past. So when she asks him to not leave her, all he can do is take another shuddering breath, arms locking behind her as he closes his eyes against her shoulder.
“Okay.” Another reiteration, unable to make promises, unable to find it in him to try. She is his pillar right now, the constant in a storm of inconsistencies. Like Lusea had been when his mother had died, like he had shoved the burden on so many others. Hotaru comes to mind, briefly, fleetingly, another to share the burden that was him.
And how he regrets dragging all of them into the mess that he is.
It’s been there from the start, since he was six years old to sneak a peak at the trial, to see the horror and bloodshed and destruction that he was meant to partake in. That was the day he’d fallen out of the tree, and he’d thought the pain of breaking his leg was the worst it could get. But it got worse, it always did.
Her tears are felt, but he’s numb to them now. Numb to nearly everything, despite the warmth of the bath he still feels frigid inside. An icy core of nothingness that he can’t get past. So when she asks him to not leave her, all he can do is take another shuddering breath, arms locking behind her as he closes his eyes against her shoulder.
“Okay.” Another reiteration, unable to make promises, unable to find it in him to try. She is his pillar right now, the constant in a storm of inconsistencies. Like Lusea had been when his mother had died, like he had shoved the burden on so many others. Hotaru comes to mind, briefly, fleetingly, another to share the burden that was him.
And how he regrets dragging all of them into the mess that he is.
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.
