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
She begins to clean up the bar, and his gaze flickers along her before moving back toward where that hidden entrance is. “Guild room.” He replies easily, because a part of him doesn’t particularly want to stay in a cold bed all by himself, not when he’s this drunk, this nostalgic, despite trying to push back all of those thoughts. A couch is easier in that regard, able to sleep as a panther if need be and the couch isn’t long enough for the length of his legs.
He’ll make it work.
She’s there, however, lacing her arm into his as they both seem a bit too drunk, making their way over toward the door and fumbling with keys to get it open. He leans on her as much as she leans on him, a give and take of not losing the other as he fishes for his own key and manages to find it after a few moments of pulling out the lighter from before. “It’s so depressing.” He offers with a small shrug, trying to open the door with one hand while keeping Weaver on his other arm.
It takes a few tries, but there’s a click and the door opens, and he flashes her a smug smirk. “Got it.” He chimes as if it were a mission in itself to get the door open. But of course, he aims to tug her along with him to enter it, pushing back against the door to close it after belatedly wondering if it was still able to be opened from the inside without someone else out there — not recalling how it had worked when he’d set it up.
He’ll make it work.
She’s there, however, lacing her arm into his as they both seem a bit too drunk, making their way over toward the door and fumbling with keys to get it open. He leans on her as much as she leans on him, a give and take of not losing the other as he fishes for his own key and manages to find it after a few moments of pulling out the lighter from before. “It’s so depressing.” He offers with a small shrug, trying to open the door with one hand while keeping Weaver on his other arm.
It takes a few tries, but there’s a click and the door opens, and he flashes her a smug smirk. “Got it.” He chimes as if it were a mission in itself to get the door open. But of course, he aims to tug her along with him to enter it, pushing back against the door to close it after belatedly wondering if it was still able to be opened from the inside without someone else out there — not recalling how it had worked when he’d set it up.
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.
