SUNJATA
the flood
i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"
that "the answers unlock this gate"
Sunjata doesn’t know what to do either, except continue his self-destruction, his spirals, his breakdowns away from everyone else. Had Nate not come with, it likely would have ended much the same way – a glass in his hand full of whichever liquor it was he had in the kitchen, a pack of cigarettes and perhaps a lot of silence staring into the flame of the fireplace. He has none of this, however, not with Nate here and the conversation and words that slip from his lips.
Nate’s anger is a welcome reprieve, honestly. A validating feeling that soaks him to the bones and he has to stop himself from telling Nate where exactly the whole ritual of things were to try and forget those that had been lost and forgotten. “I try to pretend that I’m not, but if you haven’t seen it yet, I’m quite easily manipulated if you know the right buttons to press. And she pressed them, Nate.” A sharper tone to his voice to that, though it fades quickly as soon as Sunjata’s expressing his unintentional accusations, his breakdowns.
It fades, because Nate’s hand is at his jaw, hovering and lifting his gaze to meet the vibrant electric blues of Nate’s eyes – is that hurt that he sees behind it? He doesn’t know who it’s for, if it’s for Nate to see Sunjata in this way, or the fact that nothing seems to go right for him regardless of how much he tries? A puff of air leaves him through his nose at Nate’s comment of being selfish.
He’s heard the same said about him, but honestly… Sometimes he felt like he deserved to be a little selfish now and then. If nothing else, at least.
Still, there’s that sorrow and sadness and the need to crash and burn himself down and down until there’s nothing left, that hangs at the forefront of his mind as he both looks at Nate, but through him as well. A hollow sort of look that begins to sharpen and snap to Nate’s face at the comment of brother.
And that certainly makes things problematic, doesn’t it? The glass in Sunjata’s hand shakes a small amount as he exhales, gaze dropping to it, another quiet wheeze of breath leaving his throat. “You saved my life, you know.” He comments briefly, lifting his head out of Nate’s hand to push up on the chair to stand on sore legs, smelling of smoke and ash and alcohol now, clutching the glass in his hand. “I just wish I was more grateful for it.”
Nate’s anger is a welcome reprieve, honestly. A validating feeling that soaks him to the bones and he has to stop himself from telling Nate where exactly the whole ritual of things were to try and forget those that had been lost and forgotten. “I try to pretend that I’m not, but if you haven’t seen it yet, I’m quite easily manipulated if you know the right buttons to press. And she pressed them, Nate.” A sharper tone to his voice to that, though it fades quickly as soon as Sunjata’s expressing his unintentional accusations, his breakdowns.
It fades, because Nate’s hand is at his jaw, hovering and lifting his gaze to meet the vibrant electric blues of Nate’s eyes – is that hurt that he sees behind it? He doesn’t know who it’s for, if it’s for Nate to see Sunjata in this way, or the fact that nothing seems to go right for him regardless of how much he tries? A puff of air leaves him through his nose at Nate’s comment of being selfish.
He’s heard the same said about him, but honestly… Sometimes he felt like he deserved to be a little selfish now and then. If nothing else, at least.
Still, there’s that sorrow and sadness and the need to crash and burn himself down and down until there’s nothing left, that hangs at the forefront of his mind as he both looks at Nate, but through him as well. A hollow sort of look that begins to sharpen and snap to Nate’s face at the comment of brother.
And that certainly makes things problematic, doesn’t it? The glass in Sunjata’s hand shakes a small amount as he exhales, gaze dropping to it, another quiet wheeze of breath leaving his throat. “You saved my life, you know.” He comments briefly, lifting his head out of Nate’s hand to push up on the chair to stand on sore legs, smelling of smoke and ash and alcohol now, clutching the glass in his hand. “I just wish I was more grateful for it.”
'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.
