SUNJATA
the flood
i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"
that "the answers unlock this gate"
He both hears and doesn’t hear Nate. Not as the words that leave his lips suggest that he doesn’t deserve everything that comes for him. He knows he does, knows deep down that it’s some sort of fucked up karma that he’s gathered though he doesn’t know how. Is it from Lusea’s death? Is it from simply being born the way he was? Was it the fact he had to kill so many other innocent kids when he turned seventeen?
Either way, he recalls when he told Maea that this next coming year would be a shitfest. And he was right.
So when Nate tells him that he shouldn’t be punished for trying to get close to people, there’s almost a shudder to his gaze as Nate wraps his hand around the hand already clutched by the Ascended to keep him still. “Maybe I shouldn’t be. But I am.” It’s a weak response, but its all he can see anymore. All of it. The unfairness of it, unknowing how to keep them near without that deep rooted fear that appears when he gets antsy and too far out of himself, all reasonability gone in an instant.
Of course, as Sunjata continues, things get worse – and Nate finds those buttons to press, ones like so many had pressed before that shift him somewhat closer toward that Korofi version of himself that he fucking hates so much. But he can’t help it, not how internally distraught he’s become. The words that leave Nate’s lips feel far more like accusations, and muscles feather in his jaw, gaze narrowing, partial shifts of his prey forms appearing in an attempt to get out.
Perhaps a hint of the fear that settles deep within him?
Those horns appear as they were usually prone to do, feathers shifting to cover along his arms, long feathers slipping out from his forearms at the challenge granted. His mind might be swimming, but the movements are mechanical, hidden and trained deep within his mind. Jaw clenching as he moves, far swifter than to be expected given the physical state he’s in, slipping his hand out from both of Nate’s to push him those few steps back until the Ascended’s back pins against the wall, one hand still braced against the Ascended’s chest. “I am afraid Nate.” He hisses, trying to restrain what semblance he has. Perhaps Nate might notice that hint of authority within his words and movements he’d been trained to do. “I’m afraid that I could’ve fucking lost you too today if they didn’t get the lava to redirect. I’m afraid that the next time some shitty thing happens that you, Melita, Weaver, and Hotaru might fucking get hurt.” A sharp inhale of breath to that as he shakes his head.
“And I can’t do this anymore.”
Either way, he recalls when he told Maea that this next coming year would be a shitfest. And he was right.
So when Nate tells him that he shouldn’t be punished for trying to get close to people, there’s almost a shudder to his gaze as Nate wraps his hand around the hand already clutched by the Ascended to keep him still. “Maybe I shouldn’t be. But I am.” It’s a weak response, but its all he can see anymore. All of it. The unfairness of it, unknowing how to keep them near without that deep rooted fear that appears when he gets antsy and too far out of himself, all reasonability gone in an instant.
Of course, as Sunjata continues, things get worse – and Nate finds those buttons to press, ones like so many had pressed before that shift him somewhat closer toward that Korofi version of himself that he fucking hates so much. But he can’t help it, not how internally distraught he’s become. The words that leave Nate’s lips feel far more like accusations, and muscles feather in his jaw, gaze narrowing, partial shifts of his prey forms appearing in an attempt to get out.
Perhaps a hint of the fear that settles deep within him?
Those horns appear as they were usually prone to do, feathers shifting to cover along his arms, long feathers slipping out from his forearms at the challenge granted. His mind might be swimming, but the movements are mechanical, hidden and trained deep within his mind. Jaw clenching as he moves, far swifter than to be expected given the physical state he’s in, slipping his hand out from both of Nate’s to push him those few steps back until the Ascended’s back pins against the wall, one hand still braced against the Ascended’s chest. “I am afraid Nate.” He hisses, trying to restrain what semblance he has. Perhaps Nate might notice that hint of authority within his words and movements he’d been trained to do. “I’m afraid that I could’ve fucking lost you too today if they didn’t get the lava to redirect. I’m afraid that the next time some shitty thing happens that you, Melita, Weaver, and Hotaru might fucking get hurt.” A sharp inhale of breath to that as he shakes his head.
“And I can’t do this anymore.”
'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.
