SUNJATA
the flood
i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"
that "the answers unlock this gate"
In the end he’s not sure whether or not what else can go wrong. The house, itself, is covered in inches of ash, mixing and melding together with the wind and left behind droplets of water from a storm that had recently passed. And with it, a sludge of sorts that feels like his mind as he leads and guides Nate toward the home that he’d found with Maea – another ghost of his life. Perhaps that’s why he’d tried so hard to save the people of Haulani, to forgo the buildings with the ability to rebuild it once the dust and ash had cleared.
Buildings could be replaced. People couldn’t.
It was a lesson hard learned for Sunjata over many years. Yet on the decade anniversary of his Trial and his seventeenth birthday, this year was turning out to be quite exactly how he expected it. But he gets Nate into the house, sheds the bandana that had covered his face, daggers dropping to the table as Nate moves him into a chair where his body seems to simply give out due to exhaustion and some of the tightness in his chest from breathing in the ashen air.
He hardly notices when Nate checks him out, stifling a cough before the Ascended kneels before him. And with it, his stormy gaze finds Nate’s electric blues, the pause of the words reaching him in such a way that he’s not sure how to respond. The obvious answer is no, but something about it reverts him back to the version he was before. Don’t show weakness, don’t cry, don’t give in.
Strength wins in this instance, and he moves to rub a slightly ashen hand against his stubbled cheek as he shakes his head and leans back a small amount to look at the ceiling. “Yes and no.” At least he’s honest this time, though he doesn’t elaborate yet. Too much shit happening, too exhausted and burned mentally and physically to make the words work right on his tongue.
Buildings could be replaced. People couldn’t.
It was a lesson hard learned for Sunjata over many years. Yet on the decade anniversary of his Trial and his seventeenth birthday, this year was turning out to be quite exactly how he expected it. But he gets Nate into the house, sheds the bandana that had covered his face, daggers dropping to the table as Nate moves him into a chair where his body seems to simply give out due to exhaustion and some of the tightness in his chest from breathing in the ashen air.
He hardly notices when Nate checks him out, stifling a cough before the Ascended kneels before him. And with it, his stormy gaze finds Nate’s electric blues, the pause of the words reaching him in such a way that he’s not sure how to respond. The obvious answer is no, but something about it reverts him back to the version he was before. Don’t show weakness, don’t cry, don’t give in.
Strength wins in this instance, and he moves to rub a slightly ashen hand against his stubbled cheek as he shakes his head and leans back a small amount to look at the ceiling. “Yes and no.” At least he’s honest this time, though he doesn’t elaborate yet. Too much shit happening, too exhausted and burned mentally and physically to make the words work right on his tongue.
'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed
you'd still be wishing you were blessed
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.
