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
He peers back at her through half lidded steel, watching the makeshift nest she makes and snorts at it. “It would.” He agrees, flashing a grin her way before he settles in a bit, to explain the scars and drag her hand along his skin to feel the rise and fall of them, the dips in his skin of stories to tell. And after her question is aired about Loren and Deimos, it’s half amusing half not.
“Well. Loren was drunk and looking for a fight so I tried to get him into a fist fight.” He’d offered to spar it out many a time with the summoner, but this had been the time it was taken up. “He used magic and I used my shifts at the end of it. A sloppy fight, really. But the dragon was… Not a good choice after what I did here in Halo.” He trails off, free hand raising to run through the dark waves of his hair. “As for Deimos? The same. I led the party that got Peter and Adam killed, fucked up a relationship with someone quite close to Deimos when I got married.” The tone of his voice is clear in the sense that he believes he deserved what he got from the Sword.
But then he tilts his head down toward her again at the mention of the tattoos, releasing her hand as her fingertips trail the expanse along the column of his neck, a light hum leaving him with the feeling. “The wings were my first tattoo. A fuck you to my father. The compasses I had added after Lusea died, pointed the northern point in front of me because she was my guide.” He snorts at the poetics of it before shaking his head. “When she came to the grounds I got the flaming arrow, and she got a wave.” The fire and the Flood. The Vlam Vloed. “And the arms for Safrin.” Well, the arm currently. But the idea was the same.
“And just because I’m equipped doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He flashes a smirk toward her before he’s shifting onto his side, arms reaching out to tug her onto the couch with him. “No fever. Quite a bit drunk, though. Probably something to do with my shifts.”
“Well. Loren was drunk and looking for a fight so I tried to get him into a fist fight.” He’d offered to spar it out many a time with the summoner, but this had been the time it was taken up. “He used magic and I used my shifts at the end of it. A sloppy fight, really. But the dragon was… Not a good choice after what I did here in Halo.” He trails off, free hand raising to run through the dark waves of his hair. “As for Deimos? The same. I led the party that got Peter and Adam killed, fucked up a relationship with someone quite close to Deimos when I got married.” The tone of his voice is clear in the sense that he believes he deserved what he got from the Sword.
But then he tilts his head down toward her again at the mention of the tattoos, releasing her hand as her fingertips trail the expanse along the column of his neck, a light hum leaving him with the feeling. “The wings were my first tattoo. A fuck you to my father. The compasses I had added after Lusea died, pointed the northern point in front of me because she was my guide.” He snorts at the poetics of it before shaking his head. “When she came to the grounds I got the flaming arrow, and she got a wave.” The fire and the Flood. The Vlam Vloed. “And the arms for Safrin.” Well, the arm currently. But the idea was the same.
“And just because I’m equipped doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He flashes a smirk toward her before he’s shifting onto his side, arms reaching out to tug her onto the couch with him. “No fever. Quite a bit drunk, though. Probably something to do with my shifts.”
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.
