you were forged in fire // and you rose from the ashes
murder and mercy rolled into one
He’s got him pinned, and with it as the man doesn’t try to struggle more, Sunjata manages to flip the man around and press him into the wall. He’s bleeding pretty well now, the front of his shirt dark and damp with it, but he tries to ignore it to focus on this. A hand reaches to place one of the daggers back, the one used for attaining the blood of races, while the other one used for justice is used here. After all, this is justice is it not?
He reaches for the twine, hands slightly trembling now with the pain in his stomach, reaching for more of that twine to tie the mans hands behind him, uncaring of all of the blood that’s shedding along the floor between the two of them. And once that’s done, he grabs the man by the makeshift cuffs, keeping the blade for justice at his throat as he goes to walk him out. His voice is low, rough, threatening as he continues the walk toward the entrance. “If I catch you and your boys stealing again, I’ll cut your hands off.” For added emphasis, the blade at the man’s throat digs in a small amount. Nothing vital, nothing threatening, but there’d likely be a scar there when it healed.
He sets the man near the entrance, before going and lugging the rest of them to the same place. And with it, he can focus on all of them that shout and spit and threaten him back. At least, until the leader of the group tells them all to shut the fuck up. Perhaps it’s all the blood, the wounds on the other man, but there’s something that screams to Sunjata that the thief won’t try it again. He lays out the rules, the fact that he’ll absolutely chop the hands off of those here if he catches them again, before he goes to haul them to the makeshift place he can lock them into for the night and hopefully get some attention to the wound he’s sustained, keeping pressure to it the best he can.
- FIN
He reaches for the twine, hands slightly trembling now with the pain in his stomach, reaching for more of that twine to tie the mans hands behind him, uncaring of all of the blood that’s shedding along the floor between the two of them. And once that’s done, he grabs the man by the makeshift cuffs, keeping the blade for justice at his throat as he goes to walk him out. His voice is low, rough, threatening as he continues the walk toward the entrance. “If I catch you and your boys stealing again, I’ll cut your hands off.” For added emphasis, the blade at the man’s throat digs in a small amount. Nothing vital, nothing threatening, but there’d likely be a scar there when it healed.
He sets the man near the entrance, before going and lugging the rest of them to the same place. And with it, he can focus on all of them that shout and spit and threaten him back. At least, until the leader of the group tells them all to shut the fuck up. Perhaps it’s all the blood, the wounds on the other man, but there’s something that screams to Sunjata that the thief won’t try it again. He lays out the rules, the fact that he’ll absolutely chop the hands off of those here if he catches them again, before he goes to haul them to the makeshift place he can lock them into for the night and hopefully get some attention to the wound he’s sustained, keeping pressure to it the best he can.
- FIN
which way is up?
SUNJATA
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.
