SUNJATA
the flood
anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself
saving everybody else to save yourself
Her eyes are wide when his question is said aloud. But he doesn’t stop, doesn’t shy away. She needs to know and she needs to learn what it is she’s getting into if she wants to somehow figure out what’s going on in his mind. It’s a longshot, and many of these things he hadn’t told anyone. Phoebe knew some things, Lusea knew them all because she had been there, Peter knew… But Peter was gone now. And so he inhales deeply, shatteringly, refraining from touching her to simply watch her face as the words leave his lips.
“I told you that Korofi was a hard place to grow up in.” He recalls the talk of their swim test, the way they kept population in control, things of that nature. “Growing up they would condition us to try and become the next Arbiter. My father was ruthless in it but I was too soft, I didn’t… Want to hurt anyone.” A brief pause. “Every year when at least ten boys turned seventeen, mostly noble or families who could afford to buy them entry, they’d take part in a Trial.” He wonders if he’s mentioned the Trial before in passing, can’t recall if he had.
“The Trial was what determined who would be the best fit to take the Arbiter’s place, so they would take all the boys and dump them into a pit of mud with knives and swords and see who lived to the end.” His pause is longer here, searching her face. “I… Won my trial. Someone had brought a gun into the pit to try and get me first. I ended up killing seven or eight boys that day…” He can’t look at her then, shifting to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling.
“And they pulled me out of that fucking pit, posted my picture everywhere, painted me as the hero to save the Senzaoks, covered in blood and mud. Only my mother saw what it did to me.” His jaw clenches. “So I stayed away from everyone for a year or so until they started making me go to training to become an Enforcer. During that time I planned on how to take down my father, learned as much as I could to try and get close to him, to pretend to be this other version of me that he wanted me to be. But they stationed me at the hardest place after a while, in the Slums with a variety of men to watch over. I’d lost a few in some brawls with the rebellion, and our mission had been to find where the rebellion began…”
“I did… One day when it was raining terribly bad, I couldn’t… Handle, it anymore. The constant feeling of pretending to be something different with no hope in sight. So I went to the rooftop to test myself, to see… If maybe I’d take that extra step. The building was a bit smaller than the Spire, but tall enough off the ground.” She’d know what he means. “And when I looked down… I found a couple notable faces of the rebellion, reckless in their attempts to hide their entrance because they'd gotten into a brawl.”
“I told you that Korofi was a hard place to grow up in.” He recalls the talk of their swim test, the way they kept population in control, things of that nature. “Growing up they would condition us to try and become the next Arbiter. My father was ruthless in it but I was too soft, I didn’t… Want to hurt anyone.” A brief pause. “Every year when at least ten boys turned seventeen, mostly noble or families who could afford to buy them entry, they’d take part in a Trial.” He wonders if he’s mentioned the Trial before in passing, can’t recall if he had.
“The Trial was what determined who would be the best fit to take the Arbiter’s place, so they would take all the boys and dump them into a pit of mud with knives and swords and see who lived to the end.” His pause is longer here, searching her face. “I… Won my trial. Someone had brought a gun into the pit to try and get me first. I ended up killing seven or eight boys that day…” He can’t look at her then, shifting to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling.
“And they pulled me out of that fucking pit, posted my picture everywhere, painted me as the hero to save the Senzaoks, covered in blood and mud. Only my mother saw what it did to me.” His jaw clenches. “So I stayed away from everyone for a year or so until they started making me go to training to become an Enforcer. During that time I planned on how to take down my father, learned as much as I could to try and get close to him, to pretend to be this other version of me that he wanted me to be. But they stationed me at the hardest place after a while, in the Slums with a variety of men to watch over. I’d lost a few in some brawls with the rebellion, and our mission had been to find where the rebellion began…”
“I did… One day when it was raining terribly bad, I couldn’t… Handle, it anymore. The constant feeling of pretending to be something different with no hope in sight. So I went to the rooftop to test myself, to see… If maybe I’d take that extra step. The building was a bit smaller than the Spire, but tall enough off the ground.” She’d know what he means. “And when I looked down… I found a couple notable faces of the rebellion, reckless in their attempts to hide their entrance because they'd gotten into a brawl.”
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.
