SUNJATA
the flood
i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind
on the pavement, blowing in the wind
The more it goes on the more he realizes just how similar he and Nate sound when things get tough. He realizes that he’s said the same once before, how everything always ends up the same. And then? Then he’s silent, listening, waiting for the ball to drop and feeling his anxieties grow even further within him — why had he been so stupid?
But then Nate’s asking if there’s a point, and he takes a sharp inhale, keeping his gaze on Nate now, still and remaining in place, refraining from getting closer and staying away. And he lets the words sit there and pelt, hurting worse now that the voice is quiet, that it’s not a shouting match. That’s the kind of anger he can handle. This? This hurts, so much worse. And it gives him a moment of shifting, contemplating, biting the words on his tongue before he does the exact opposite of what his mind is telling him to do.
He does step closer to Nate, one hand remaining on the table while the other one looks away, and he takes a deep and long inhale. “There’s never going to be a guarantee.” He rumbles, frowning as he clenches his jaw again. “You knew that. Don’t try and sit there and act like you didn’t know what you were getting into when you chose to stay.” He snaps again. “I have been trying, Nate. This is good for me, you know that right? At least I’m not drowning in a mud monster yet. At least I’m not getting friends killed for leading them into Halo to face a dragon. Oh, which as it turns out, a white dragon killed Weaver this season.” He shakes his head, a small mirthless laugh leaving him again. “So it never ends. This place sucks. But what choice do we have?”
He wishes so desperately for the good times to last, however long they might, before it inevitably kills them in the end too.
But then Nate’s asking if there’s a point, and he takes a sharp inhale, keeping his gaze on Nate now, still and remaining in place, refraining from getting closer and staying away. And he lets the words sit there and pelt, hurting worse now that the voice is quiet, that it’s not a shouting match. That’s the kind of anger he can handle. This? This hurts, so much worse. And it gives him a moment of shifting, contemplating, biting the words on his tongue before he does the exact opposite of what his mind is telling him to do.
He does step closer to Nate, one hand remaining on the table while the other one looks away, and he takes a deep and long inhale. “There’s never going to be a guarantee.” He rumbles, frowning as he clenches his jaw again. “You knew that. Don’t try and sit there and act like you didn’t know what you were getting into when you chose to stay.” He snaps again. “I have been trying, Nate. This is good for me, you know that right? At least I’m not drowning in a mud monster yet. At least I’m not getting friends killed for leading them into Halo to face a dragon. Oh, which as it turns out, a white dragon killed Weaver this season.” He shakes his head, a small mirthless laugh leaving him again. “So it never ends. This place sucks. But what choice do we have?”
He wishes so desperately for the good times to last, however long they might, before it inevitably kills them in the end too.
you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end
just a little bit more than you gained in the end
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.
