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
“I need that too.” He wants to shout back, but he keeps his tone just as even as before, even if it shakes a small amount. It’s the same tenor, same gravel tone and he bites his tongue from mentioning that it’s a lost cause, a lost hope. Never, not here, not in this place. Perhaps in another life, another place. Maybe they just need a break, maybe they’re just trying to push each other away, maybe it calls back to the root of the issues at hand of them trying so hard not to become their fathers that they inevitably start to.
But they could change it, couldn’t they?
He’s preparing for a fight until Nate begins to comment that he doesn’t know – and neither does Sunjata. They can both agree on that, whole heartedly. There is no choice to be had other than whether they wanted to endure it together – and in that fragile part of Sunjata that’s been broken and torn so many times, he cannot do it without him. And perhaps that’s the part that shudders when Nate’s chin lifts, when he says he’s not going anywhere. And it burns at the back of his throat, all the anger and fire he’d held before, melting immediately at the dullness of his voice, at the concession, at the white flag even though it feels like Sunjata doesn’t deserve it, wouldn’t dream of trying to claim he’d won this one.
There’s a shaky exhale that leaves Sunjata as he stares at the shadow of Nate, letting the alcohol burn in his gut to soothe the pounding of his head. And gods he feels like shit, knowing that Nate only cared and Sunjata had handled things possibly one of the worst ways. He steps toward Nate now, head lowering a small amount, his posture and stony face crumbling. “I’m so fucking sorry.” There’s a crack in his voice with this. “I'm sorry.”
But they could change it, couldn’t they?
He’s preparing for a fight until Nate begins to comment that he doesn’t know – and neither does Sunjata. They can both agree on that, whole heartedly. There is no choice to be had other than whether they wanted to endure it together – and in that fragile part of Sunjata that’s been broken and torn so many times, he cannot do it without him. And perhaps that’s the part that shudders when Nate’s chin lifts, when he says he’s not going anywhere. And it burns at the back of his throat, all the anger and fire he’d held before, melting immediately at the dullness of his voice, at the concession, at the white flag even though it feels like Sunjata doesn’t deserve it, wouldn’t dream of trying to claim he’d won this one.
There’s a shaky exhale that leaves Sunjata as he stares at the shadow of Nate, letting the alcohol burn in his gut to soothe the pounding of his head. And gods he feels like shit, knowing that Nate only cared and Sunjata had handled things possibly one of the worst ways. He steps toward Nate now, head lowering a small amount, his posture and stony face crumbling. “I’m so fucking sorry.” There’s a crack in his voice with this. “I'm sorry.”
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.
