SUNJATA
the flood
i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"
that "the answers unlock this gate"
There’s a moment where he tilts his head into Nate’s touch as he runs his hands through his hair, lids half closing with the sensation it draws. There’s a slight snort that leaves him, some ease and air to the distraction of his heart and the vast void that’s growing – that has been growing. But Nate helps him up – really the one that’s stable in comparison to the sore legs the attuned has and the slightly less inebriated state now that he’s hit the bottom.
The words that leave the Ascended have Sunjata rolling his eyes, pausing in step as a huff of a questionable hum leaves his throat. “I think that if you plan on sleeping in my bed, I’m not going to have you there covered in ash.” He tilts his head toward Nate with a raise of his brow, though amusement continues to linger along the lines of his face. “We’re just going to pretend I haven’t left feathers there.” He winks, slipping up with Nate’s support to the top of the stairs.
There’s weaponry strewn about when they reach the top of the stairs, ducking under before rising to his full height. He abandons the help from Nate if only to remove the shirt, slipping it the best he can over the horns that protrude that he can’t quite disband. He tosses it into a heap in the corner, slipping into the room off to the side. New scars arise and pepper his skin, a few pinpricks to his chest where claws had poked, three long scars on his left side from Loren’s dragon, a few smaller scars on his right side from above his hip bone to under his arm where Deimos had taken out aggression onto him.
Then, of course, the tattoos along his shoulders and back, a few of the feathers that drift along the back of his shoulder blades interrupted by five crescent shaped scars that had taken ink out in the process. It’s been made up, however, with the new black out tattoo that swirls in waves up to tuck under the feathered tattoos that extend down his arm, filled in with black and galaxy patterns on one arm.
The bathroom is big and wide enough, a shower in place of a bath – that luxury lies below for the rooms beneath the floor Sunjata had decided as his own. And with it, Sunjata reaches in to turn it on to heat it up, watching briefly in his quiet state as the water runs along his arm, rising goosebumps out of the black ink and running dark with the ash that coats his skin.
The words that leave the Ascended have Sunjata rolling his eyes, pausing in step as a huff of a questionable hum leaves his throat. “I think that if you plan on sleeping in my bed, I’m not going to have you there covered in ash.” He tilts his head toward Nate with a raise of his brow, though amusement continues to linger along the lines of his face. “We’re just going to pretend I haven’t left feathers there.” He winks, slipping up with Nate’s support to the top of the stairs.
There’s weaponry strewn about when they reach the top of the stairs, ducking under before rising to his full height. He abandons the help from Nate if only to remove the shirt, slipping it the best he can over the horns that protrude that he can’t quite disband. He tosses it into a heap in the corner, slipping into the room off to the side. New scars arise and pepper his skin, a few pinpricks to his chest where claws had poked, three long scars on his left side from Loren’s dragon, a few smaller scars on his right side from above his hip bone to under his arm where Deimos had taken out aggression onto him.
Then, of course, the tattoos along his shoulders and back, a few of the feathers that drift along the back of his shoulder blades interrupted by five crescent shaped scars that had taken ink out in the process. It’s been made up, however, with the new black out tattoo that swirls in waves up to tuck under the feathered tattoos that extend down his arm, filled in with black and galaxy patterns on one arm.
The bathroom is big and wide enough, a shower in place of a bath – that luxury lies below for the rooms beneath the floor Sunjata had decided as his own. And with it, Sunjata reaches in to turn it on to heat it up, watching briefly in his quiet state as the water runs along his arm, rising goosebumps out of the black ink and running dark with the ash that coats his skin.
'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.
