if i let go, would you hold on, would we fly?
is it safer if we just say that we tried?
He really doesn’t care to hear it – a white noise effect of being bound by these laws and these rules of existence. Gods he’s tired of it, tired of this, tired of being in this position again and again. He doesn’t care if Delphia would forgive him for getting stuck in his ruts, it’s who he is. It’s how he’s been, and if there’s one thing Sunjata knew, it was that it was nearly impossible to change. So he lets her tattle off her retorts as she decays before him, another bead of blood mixing with rain to drip down his cheek as he laughs when she tells him to ask her what to do.
She is not his goddess. She is not even the demi-god of his goddess. And while she might be daughter of the old gods, that did not give her the right to prolong this out to try and change him.
“I am a follower of Safrin and in turn Vi.” He grits out, hands clutching at the daggers again, gaze narrowing on her decaying form, edging a step closer. “What makes you think that you get to decide how I live my life when my goddess seems perfectly happy to let me be the way I am.” He’s not helping the situation, but he also doubts very much that she can help sway him, change him, turn him on a different path when Safrin had set him down a different one all on her own.
To make something of himself, in perhaps a less savory way but a way nonetheless.
“This is my life, Delphia. I’ll do with it what I want to. I will not sit there and try to change my life for you to feel better with your father.” He shifts a small amount in place, the glint of the daggers seen through the parting of the cloak.
She is not his goddess. She is not even the demi-god of his goddess. And while she might be daughter of the old gods, that did not give her the right to prolong this out to try and change him.
“I am a follower of Safrin and in turn Vi.” He grits out, hands clutching at the daggers again, gaze narrowing on her decaying form, edging a step closer. “What makes you think that you get to decide how I live my life when my goddess seems perfectly happy to let me be the way I am.” He’s not helping the situation, but he also doubts very much that she can help sway him, change him, turn him on a different path when Safrin had set him down a different one all on her own.
To make something of himself, in perhaps a less savory way but a way nonetheless.
“This is my life, Delphia. I’ll do with it what I want to. I will not sit there and try to change my life for you to feel better with your father.” He shifts a small amount in place, the glint of the daggers seen through the parting of the cloak.
are we laughing at the danger?
are we dancing after death, you and I?
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.
