SuNjATA
the flood
By the time Korbin gets around to speaking, Sunjata’s near the end of the cigarette he’s lit – letting the salty wind run through the waves of his hair, covering his exposed skin like a quiet kiss of cool against the heat of the alcohol. He doesn’t look to the young man beside him, he simply flicks the ash from the cigarette and braces his elbows on his knees, drawing them up in a bit more casual of a stance, far more comfortable this way.
“Don’t be.” He rumbles, sending a soft sensation down the bond toward Korbin – that pulse of understanding and nonchalance, not caring if the boy had broken. “You should’ve seen me after the volcano erupted.” There’s a hint of a smile that crosses his face as he looks back to Korbin and raises his brow. But he takes one last drag from the cigarette before putting it out and leaning back on his arms, braced behind him and stretching his legs out.
He inhales deeply and exhales slowly before his head tilts back toward Korbin. “Sometimes you just have to relieve the pressure. Nothing wrong with that.” And there wasn’t, despite how much his father had engrained into his head that there was a problem with being weak and showing weaknesses. Those that he’d put into his life for however long they’d stayed made him sure that it wasn’t something to be ashamed of, something to be afraid of, even despite how he’d consistently tried to swallow it down.
“Don’t be.” He rumbles, sending a soft sensation down the bond toward Korbin – that pulse of understanding and nonchalance, not caring if the boy had broken. “You should’ve seen me after the volcano erupted.” There’s a hint of a smile that crosses his face as he looks back to Korbin and raises his brow. But he takes one last drag from the cigarette before putting it out and leaning back on his arms, braced behind him and stretching his legs out.
He inhales deeply and exhales slowly before his head tilts back toward Korbin. “Sometimes you just have to relieve the pressure. Nothing wrong with that.” And there wasn’t, despite how much his father had engrained into his head that there was a problem with being weak and showing weaknesses. Those that he’d put into his life for however long they’d stayed made him sure that it wasn’t something to be ashamed of, something to be afraid of, even despite how he’d consistently tried to swallow it down.
get a load of this trainwreck
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.
