SUNJATA
the flood
i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind
on the pavement, blowing in the wind
“Mmm, well. Of course she was.” He rumbles but there’s a curve of his lip in a small amount of amusement, shifting in the seat a bit to better look at her as she comes to sit beside him. The letter, however; he doesn’t know whether to read it now or not. Prolonging the inevitable until he’s drunk enough to not care anymore. So he focuses on talk of Delphia instead to replace the sinking feeling in his stomach.
And well, a huff of a sigh leaves his nose in response, free hand raising to run through the dark waves of his hair. He wants to say something to that, that at least this letter was something from her other than the gaping abyss left behind of her departure and his complete lack of knowing anything she had to say or think about. And he missed it, so incredibly much, the thoughts and way she’d bounce ideas off of him late in the morning when he’d kept her from her rigorous training schedule just to spend more time with her.
So he nods instead, still making no move to open the letter yet. He lifts the glass to his lips again, trying to drown out the hollow pit in his stomach with a burning familiar ache. But her hand covers his and his gaze flickers toward it and back to her when she speaks, the hollow pit in his stomach yawning wider and wider as he nods, muscles feather and tensing within his jaw. “The last time I saw her we talked about what happened. At least I don’t have to feel guilty about leaving on bad terms... Told her that I loved her too, regardless of what happened.” There’s something in his voice that sounds strained beneath the rumble of his accent. “And yet, what if it was my fault she went and did it? If I didn’t get so fucking antsy when people got too close because they always fucking leave… Maybe.” He trails off with some exasperation. “Maybe she’d still be here.”
And well, a huff of a sigh leaves his nose in response, free hand raising to run through the dark waves of his hair. He wants to say something to that, that at least this letter was something from her other than the gaping abyss left behind of her departure and his complete lack of knowing anything she had to say or think about. And he missed it, so incredibly much, the thoughts and way she’d bounce ideas off of him late in the morning when he’d kept her from her rigorous training schedule just to spend more time with her.
So he nods instead, still making no move to open the letter yet. He lifts the glass to his lips again, trying to drown out the hollow pit in his stomach with a burning familiar ache. But her hand covers his and his gaze flickers toward it and back to her when she speaks, the hollow pit in his stomach yawning wider and wider as he nods, muscles feather and tensing within his jaw. “The last time I saw her we talked about what happened. At least I don’t have to feel guilty about leaving on bad terms... Told her that I loved her too, regardless of what happened.” There’s something in his voice that sounds strained beneath the rumble of his accent. “And yet, what if it was my fault she went and did it? If I didn’t get so fucking antsy when people got too close because they always fucking leave… Maybe.” He trails off with some exasperation. “Maybe she’d still be here.”
you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end
just a little bit more than you gained in the end
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.
