SUNJATA
the flood
'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
It could absolutely become a weapon of some sort, a hidden one – unassuming and murderous all the same, and Sunjata shivers a small amount beneath the fabric he wears at the thought – glad that they pass over it for the subject of who’s been out and attacking the Ascended. There’s a deep nod granted at the subject of just how much of a fan the Fae were toward the Ascended.
But it reminds him of something else, as Deimos mentions that he’ll ask around. His glass is filled and he lifts it to his lips, taking a deep sip and setting it along the bar top before tapping at the glass again with a finger as his brows furrow together and his head tilts a bit more toward the Sword. “There was one… I never got her name but she found me, wanted me to get something from Nate. Like hair or fluid or something for a quest for Safrin.” He hums thoughtfully, wondering if it were another weapon of sorts that the Fae were trying to go through with.
“She didn’t exactly seem forthcoming, seemed put off quite a bit. So the deal was off.” A rise and fall of shoulders once again, his thumb stroking along the side of the glass as he considers it. “I don’t think it was her, though. Didn’t sound like her.” And then the hand raises to rub at his temple, trying his best to ignore the pounding headache from running in circles over and over again.
But it reminds him of something else, as Deimos mentions that he’ll ask around. His glass is filled and he lifts it to his lips, taking a deep sip and setting it along the bar top before tapping at the glass again with a finger as his brows furrow together and his head tilts a bit more toward the Sword. “There was one… I never got her name but she found me, wanted me to get something from Nate. Like hair or fluid or something for a quest for Safrin.” He hums thoughtfully, wondering if it were another weapon of sorts that the Fae were trying to go through with.
“She didn’t exactly seem forthcoming, seemed put off quite a bit. So the deal was off.” A rise and fall of shoulders once again, his thumb stroking along the side of the glass as he considers it. “I don’t think it was her, though. Didn’t sound like her.” And then the hand raises to rub at his temple, trying his best to ignore the pounding headache from running in circles over and over again.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do
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.
