SUNJATA
the flood
you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face
Light filters in and Sunjata slips over to his side, hissing against the sharp shooting pain that feels like it might never leave. And he tries to focus on anything else, whatever else might have him distracted enough to ignore it, but nothing comes. Nothing comes except for Nate, with the scent of coffee and food brought into the room, and while Sunjata should probably try to find it in him to eat, he can’t help the slight tingle of nausea that creeps up at the back of his throat.
He swallows hard, shallow breaths coming and going that won’t stretch or rub the burns, the skin tight and healing. It takes a lot, he thinks, to try and give himself just enough to be there and focused, when he wants nothing more than to fall asleep and stay that way until everything is fixed. But life doesn’t work like that, not in this world. And out of all the things Sunjata’s done, this is quite possibly one of the worst. The mud monster at the very least had been an internal hit, at least he’d been able to walk and move and do whatever he wanted even if it left him hacking in the end.
This? This it hurt to move or even think, and each time Nate went to clean and change the bandages and the sharp cool air hit the wounds, it was like another fiery searing edge of an octopus tentacle, lashing out at him like a whip.
This morning, however, Nate’s cool hand running along his jaw has Sunjata sighing into it, tilting his head a bit as he focuses on Nate instead of himself and the pain — at least trying to. He swallows down the pang of nausea, shifting in the bed with hisses and pants until his right arm moves to latch onto the headboard to pull himself up a bit. Eyes squeezing shut with the pain, he keeps his dominant hand relatively useless with the day to day of moving and his unusable shoulder.
Tired steel eyes seek out Nate, silent but trying, unsure if he should apologize for being an idiot once again or what, but simply deciding on putting his okay arm out and pulling Nate close to rest his head on the Ascended’s shoulder. “Oggend.” He manages, eyes shutting tight, swallowing hard against the pain again.
He swallows hard, shallow breaths coming and going that won’t stretch or rub the burns, the skin tight and healing. It takes a lot, he thinks, to try and give himself just enough to be there and focused, when he wants nothing more than to fall asleep and stay that way until everything is fixed. But life doesn’t work like that, not in this world. And out of all the things Sunjata’s done, this is quite possibly one of the worst. The mud monster at the very least had been an internal hit, at least he’d been able to walk and move and do whatever he wanted even if it left him hacking in the end.
This? This it hurt to move or even think, and each time Nate went to clean and change the bandages and the sharp cool air hit the wounds, it was like another fiery searing edge of an octopus tentacle, lashing out at him like a whip.
This morning, however, Nate’s cool hand running along his jaw has Sunjata sighing into it, tilting his head a bit as he focuses on Nate instead of himself and the pain — at least trying to. He swallows down the pang of nausea, shifting in the bed with hisses and pants until his right arm moves to latch onto the headboard to pull himself up a bit. Eyes squeezing shut with the pain, he keeps his dominant hand relatively useless with the day to day of moving and his unusable shoulder.
Tired steel eyes seek out Nate, silent but trying, unsure if he should apologize for being an idiot once again or what, but simply deciding on putting his okay arm out and pulling Nate close to rest his head on the Ascended’s shoulder. “Oggend.” He manages, eyes shutting tight, swallowing hard against the pain again.
by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it
and it hurts 'cause we survived it
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.
