SUNJATA
the flood
anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself
saving everybody else to save yourself
She’s closed off and quiet, and he can tell that much from the way that she seems to flit about it. Is she worried of igniting that part of him again? A part that even he can’t muster the energy for right now? He’s not sure, and he doesn’t want to bring it up unless she does too on the off chance he’s misreading the air around them. But it’s tight and unsure, not like it had been on the beach but certainly as it has been once the house became a reality again, a possibility, a tangible thing to touch and walk into.
“I cleaned it up inside.” He offers quietly once they reach the porch that wraps around the front, ducking beneath the purple flowers that hung above the entry way. And he opens the door to let her in first, hoping that perhaps she won’t lose the momentum it took to get here. Inside, the dust has been cleared away, chairs and a couch within with furs atop them and a few books on a table beside the couch. The kitchen itself has been cleaned up as well, the table free of dust.
The upstairs has a real bed now and not much else all things considered – mostly covered in a few stray navy feathers from restless nights tossing and turning. And from the look of the state of the couch, it seems as though he might have spent a night or two there to try and keep from rolling over onto the wounds he’d sustained. So he steps inside after her, if she does enter, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “Do you want anything?” He asks her softly.
“I cleaned it up inside.” He offers quietly once they reach the porch that wraps around the front, ducking beneath the purple flowers that hung above the entry way. And he opens the door to let her in first, hoping that perhaps she won’t lose the momentum it took to get here. Inside, the dust has been cleared away, chairs and a couch within with furs atop them and a few books on a table beside the couch. The kitchen itself has been cleaned up as well, the table free of dust.
The upstairs has a real bed now and not much else all things considered – mostly covered in a few stray navy feathers from restless nights tossing and turning. And from the look of the state of the couch, it seems as though he might have spent a night or two there to try and keep from rolling over onto the wounds he’d sustained. So he steps inside after her, if she does enter, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “Do you want anything?” He asks her softly.
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.
