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
Her comment on Harper actually makes him laugh, a rough snort slipping from him as he shakes his head. “Really? You’re resorting to that now?” He asks, head tilting to the side, gaze remaining on her as he moves to fold his arms across his chest.
But he listens, because he always does, confusion sparking somewhere deep within him as well as a bit of exasperation. “It isn’t just me that needs to know.” He sighs as if it’s obvious, his temper continually glaring whenever they spoke for prolonged periods of time. He watches her flit around her kitchen, tearing his attention away to glance toward the window. “Remi needs to know. Who is powerful and helpful, unlike me which you’ve so kindly pointed out again and again.” He turns his head back toward her with a raised brow.
“You don’t have to keep acting like this, Phoebe. Putting words in my mouth I never said.” He rumbles, accent growing thicker, a hand raised to run through his hair. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened between us.” But he knows deep down he wouldn’t change a thing. He pushes off the table then, collecting the paper and quill he’d arrived with, stuffing them into a pocket as he looks to the door, wondering momentarily if she planned on kicking him out.
But he listens, because he always does, confusion sparking somewhere deep within him as well as a bit of exasperation. “It isn’t just me that needs to know.” He sighs as if it’s obvious, his temper continually glaring whenever they spoke for prolonged periods of time. He watches her flit around her kitchen, tearing his attention away to glance toward the window. “Remi needs to know. Who is powerful and helpful, unlike me which you’ve so kindly pointed out again and again.” He turns his head back toward her with a raised brow.
“You don’t have to keep acting like this, Phoebe. Putting words in my mouth I never said.” He rumbles, accent growing thicker, a hand raised to run through his hair. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened between us.” But he knows deep down he wouldn’t change a thing. He pushes off the table then, collecting the paper and quill he’d arrived with, stuffing them into a pocket as he looks to the door, wondering momentarily if she planned on kicking him out.
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.
