don't you know i'm no good for you?
It truly is poor timing, but then again when does he ever find a good time for shitty news to reach him? Between the recent events, LongNight’s approach, and everything else… Well, he’s drained, wounded — not as much as Nate has been — and everything seems to weigh down hard. The wound to his neck no longer needs to be bandaged, but it is a fun, scabbed, awful sight. His stitches are no longer in his gut, but the scar placed there is pink and sharp in contrast to the shark bites and multitude of other scars that mar his skin.
And really the only thing Sunjata can do to get his pent up frustration out is to train. And that’s how Wessex finds him, using a punching bag to tear out his aggression. He almost doesn’t notice her, not until his name is uttered and the fist that meets the bag pauses, both wrapped hands reaching out to grab it from swinging back as his gaze lifts to find her. She looks just about as good as he does, he thinks.
So he begins to unwrap his hands, slipping over toward her with a small nod. “Wessex, what brings you back to Torchline so soon?” He asks, a sentence usually full of humor falls flat as he reaches for a hand towel to wipe the sweat from his brow and goes to grab a glass of water, gaze lifting to her with a raised brow and a silent question of whether or not she wants anything to drink, even if it doesn’t affect her the way it would affect him.
And really the only thing Sunjata can do to get his pent up frustration out is to train. And that’s how Wessex finds him, using a punching bag to tear out his aggression. He almost doesn’t notice her, not until his name is uttered and the fist that meets the bag pauses, both wrapped hands reaching out to grab it from swinging back as his gaze lifts to find her. She looks just about as good as he does, he thinks.
So he begins to unwrap his hands, slipping over toward her with a small nod. “Wessex, what brings you back to Torchline so soon?” He asks, a sentence usually full of humor falls flat as he reaches for a hand towel to wipe the sweat from his brow and goes to grab a glass of water, gaze lifting to her with a raised brow and a silent question of whether or not she wants anything to drink, even if it doesn’t affect her the way it would affect him.
i've learned to lose, you can't afford to
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.
