I saw the crosses of empty cathedrals whose prospects were hanging out in bars
“It was sort of… This big thing that the resistance used as part of their reasons to be able to take down the monarchy.” Sunjata replies easily, though his brows pinch together a small amount. The mention of Melita, however, has it fading for a brief hum of bubbling laughter. “I tried to kill her father when I left Korofi.” He admits, though there’s no shame in it – not in this instance, belatedly he might wonder what Nate would’ve thought of that admission, but it passes on as he focuses on what the prize even was for a race like that.
And honestly, he has a brow raising slightly, a snort slipping from his lips as he settles in, remaining every inch that blanket as his lips part to say something in regards to bragging rights before Nate’s hand is lifting and tilting, mentioning that he’d gotten it up on the side. “Oooh.” Sunjata almost croons, though it breaks and beads away into some form of laughter.
The amusement radiating from Sunjata remains, however, as the mention of how they’d gotten a tank. And for a moment he forgets that while Korofi and America were similar in many ways, they were also very different. “What’ya mean how’d we get one?” He asks, a tone of innocence hinting in his deep accented rumbles. “We all had tanks. The enforcers. Patrol vehicles.” He muses, lips pursing briefly. “It was just… the civilians and the slums that mostly had normal-ish cars. And bikes. Stole my bike. Anyway.” He offers, fingers drumming along Nate’s chest briefly before he continues. “Oh, right. So we’d just, uh, stolen some of these new weapons my father had imported to be distributed. It was to give the resistance the upperhand, right? So we’re flying down these sets of stairs and we see that these fucking idiots from the thirty-second division left their fucking car running out in the alcove before they tried to surround the building. So Luci has this box right, and it won’t fit on my bike, this huge metal briefcase thing. So she slings it in through the window and slides in, tries to gun it and hits the corner of the building. Dented the thing and took out half of the corner of the building I swear.” A chuckle of laughter through this, though it was daunting enough as it was. “I hopped on my bike and chased after her, but gods the tank was fucked. I’m surprised we made it back, to be honest.”
He settles a bit more after his story is told, with all the amusement, and when Nate questions him on Lusea he can’t help the slightly wide, nostalgic smile that crosses his face. “Excuse me, have you met me? I am trouble.” He winks, before he nestles his head in again against Nate’s chest and his own hand. “But… When we started going together, the resistance spouted it all around. The Fire and the Flood – hence the VlamVloed’s name. She was the fire, quick witted, took no shit, wouldn’t hesitate to put you in your place.” He smirks, as if she’d done it to him multiple times. Which, honestly? She had. Not like he minded.
“Hard as steel, though. She was the daughter of the resistance, so she kinda had to be. Like how I had to be. Took her awhile to trust me, don’t blame her. I don’t think she actually did until my mom was killed and we all had to watch it. Sort of… Clicked with her that I wasn’t going to out them to my father.” There’s a purse of his lips as he thinks on it, chewing on the inside of his cheek briefly as he considers it. The conversation shifts to a bit more darkness, but it doesn’t wear on him like usual – there’s hardly a filter when it comes down to it. “Melita’s dad was the one that outted us and got her and I captured.”
And honestly, he has a brow raising slightly, a snort slipping from his lips as he settles in, remaining every inch that blanket as his lips part to say something in regards to bragging rights before Nate’s hand is lifting and tilting, mentioning that he’d gotten it up on the side. “Oooh.” Sunjata almost croons, though it breaks and beads away into some form of laughter.
The amusement radiating from Sunjata remains, however, as the mention of how they’d gotten a tank. And for a moment he forgets that while Korofi and America were similar in many ways, they were also very different. “What’ya mean how’d we get one?” He asks, a tone of innocence hinting in his deep accented rumbles. “We all had tanks. The enforcers. Patrol vehicles.” He muses, lips pursing briefly. “It was just… the civilians and the slums that mostly had normal-ish cars. And bikes. Stole my bike. Anyway.” He offers, fingers drumming along Nate’s chest briefly before he continues. “Oh, right. So we’d just, uh, stolen some of these new weapons my father had imported to be distributed. It was to give the resistance the upperhand, right? So we’re flying down these sets of stairs and we see that these fucking idiots from the thirty-second division left their fucking car running out in the alcove before they tried to surround the building. So Luci has this box right, and it won’t fit on my bike, this huge metal briefcase thing. So she slings it in through the window and slides in, tries to gun it and hits the corner of the building. Dented the thing and took out half of the corner of the building I swear.” A chuckle of laughter through this, though it was daunting enough as it was. “I hopped on my bike and chased after her, but gods the tank was fucked. I’m surprised we made it back, to be honest.”
He settles a bit more after his story is told, with all the amusement, and when Nate questions him on Lusea he can’t help the slightly wide, nostalgic smile that crosses his face. “Excuse me, have you met me? I am trouble.” He winks, before he nestles his head in again against Nate’s chest and his own hand. “But… When we started going together, the resistance spouted it all around. The Fire and the Flood – hence the VlamVloed’s name. She was the fire, quick witted, took no shit, wouldn’t hesitate to put you in your place.” He smirks, as if she’d done it to him multiple times. Which, honestly? She had. Not like he minded.
“Hard as steel, though. She was the daughter of the resistance, so she kinda had to be. Like how I had to be. Took her awhile to trust me, don’t blame her. I don’t think she actually did until my mom was killed and we all had to watch it. Sort of… Clicked with her that I wasn’t going to out them to my father.” There’s a purse of his lips as he thinks on it, chewing on the inside of his cheek briefly as he considers it. The conversation shifts to a bit more darkness, but it doesn’t wear on him like usual – there’s hardly a filter when it comes down to it. “Melita’s dad was the one that outted us and got her and I captured.”
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.
