we must always be willing to be more savage to the angels
rip up their flesh and reveal them to be nothing
Nate says he’s sure, and Sunjata nods to that, a small smile blooming along his face at the mention of making it deep enough to scar. But of course, it depends on whether Nate would want that, and so he chews on the inside of his cheek briefly as he opens his other palm to show Nate the scar that sits there. It closes, however, as soon as Nate’s attention lifts to his face, and Sunjata’s gaze flickers up toward the Ascended when his shoulder is squeezed.
“It’s a bit of a backwards royal tradition.” He offers at first, a slight tilt of his head to that. “Usually when you got married, the man would cut his palm and use his blood to draw designs along the collarbone, as if you’re making… A choker of some sort, connecting it around both sides of the neck. And you’d have to say ‘deur my bloed is jy myne van vandag af.’” His gaze remains on Nate’s, a silent question in the gaze he gives. Of course, all of it was tradition, and he'd only done it once when he'd married Phoebe because he'd promised his mother if he ever married, he'd at least keep that tradition. Not like it mattered much anyway anymore, not when the reason for the fallout of it stood before him, a lingering kiss to his cheek that Sunjata can still feel, a lingering squeeze to his shoulder that he can feel just as well.
Still, he pauses, waiting with the blade on the edge of breaking skin but still enough pressure to be acutely aware of, waiting to see what Nate has to say before he thinks about pulling the blade through.
deur my bloed is jy myne van vandag af. - by my blood, you are mine from this day forth.
“It’s a bit of a backwards royal tradition.” He offers at first, a slight tilt of his head to that. “Usually when you got married, the man would cut his palm and use his blood to draw designs along the collarbone, as if you’re making… A choker of some sort, connecting it around both sides of the neck. And you’d have to say ‘deur my bloed is jy myne van vandag af.’” His gaze remains on Nate’s, a silent question in the gaze he gives. Of course, all of it was tradition, and he'd only done it once when he'd married Phoebe because he'd promised his mother if he ever married, he'd at least keep that tradition. Not like it mattered much anyway anymore, not when the reason for the fallout of it stood before him, a lingering kiss to his cheek that Sunjata can still feel, a lingering squeeze to his shoulder that he can feel just as well.
Still, he pauses, waiting with the blade on the edge of breaking skin but still enough pressure to be acutely aware of, waiting to see what Nate has to say before he thinks about pulling the blade through.
deur my bloed is jy myne van vandag af. - by my blood, you are mine from this day forth.
how willing you must be to kill angels
and how willing they must be to let you do it
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.
