SUNJATA
the flood
Shh…
He soothes a bit, though his heart still hammers in his chest, trying to breathe and intake air where none had been before, where it burns when he tries to expand his lungs. Blood drips from his leg, the tang of iron spilling in the air around them. His head tilts in Ronin’s arms, scanning the starlight, finding both a sense of panic and comfort within them.
He knows this man, and yet he doesn’t.
They approach the Arbiter and Sunjata’s hands tremble, anxiety eating away at him as Ronin’s words cut through the air. Nobody – No one had ever dared to talk to his father that way. And for a moment, a splash of surprise crosses his face before a sneer replaces it and the barrel of the gun presses into Ronin’s chest. Sunjata can see the glint of metal in the corner of his eye, his head tilting down to bury his cheek away into Ronin’s shoulder.
His father, however, stares back at Ronin, the man that dares to speak back. “Safe? If he can’t manage the test, can’t manage to grow stronger and survive, what is the point? If he doesn’t drown now, he certainly will when he turns seventeen.” The gun drops, a growl slipping from Sahib’s throat. For a second before the world shifts again, there’s the sprinkling of a muddy pit within, pools of blood and bodies about – voices cheering for the winner in the background.
“By all means. Keep him. He’s useless now.” And there’s a part of Sunjata that wishes to reach out, to try and prove that he’s stronger than his father suggests. His fists unclench from Ronin’s shirt, writhing for a moment in Ronin’s grip to try and get the Star to drop him, apologies already flinging from his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It won’t… It won’t happen again.” He stammers, fighting against Ronin until the world changes.
Warmth, buildings shifting into the inside of a cabin of sorts – warmth sparking from the hearth, and the apologies die on Sunjata’s lips – steel eyes wide as he looks around to all the things he’s never had, never known before. Something that has his name on it, something that’s his, details of a life where someone loved him for him rather than a tool to use, an object to be molded and made.
He soothes a bit, though his heart still hammers in his chest, trying to breathe and intake air where none had been before, where it burns when he tries to expand his lungs. Blood drips from his leg, the tang of iron spilling in the air around them. His head tilts in Ronin’s arms, scanning the starlight, finding both a sense of panic and comfort within them.
He knows this man, and yet he doesn’t.
They approach the Arbiter and Sunjata’s hands tremble, anxiety eating away at him as Ronin’s words cut through the air. Nobody – No one had ever dared to talk to his father that way. And for a moment, a splash of surprise crosses his face before a sneer replaces it and the barrel of the gun presses into Ronin’s chest. Sunjata can see the glint of metal in the corner of his eye, his head tilting down to bury his cheek away into Ronin’s shoulder.
His father, however, stares back at Ronin, the man that dares to speak back. “Safe? If he can’t manage the test, can’t manage to grow stronger and survive, what is the point? If he doesn’t drown now, he certainly will when he turns seventeen.” The gun drops, a growl slipping from Sahib’s throat. For a second before the world shifts again, there’s the sprinkling of a muddy pit within, pools of blood and bodies about – voices cheering for the winner in the background.
“By all means. Keep him. He’s useless now.” And there’s a part of Sunjata that wishes to reach out, to try and prove that he’s stronger than his father suggests. His fists unclench from Ronin’s shirt, writhing for a moment in Ronin’s grip to try and get the Star to drop him, apologies already flinging from his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It won’t… It won’t happen again.” He stammers, fighting against Ronin until the world changes.
Warmth, buildings shifting into the inside of a cabin of sorts – warmth sparking from the hearth, and the apologies die on Sunjata’s lips – steel eyes wide as he looks around to all the things he’s never had, never known before. Something that has his name on it, something that’s his, details of a life where someone loved him for him rather than a tool to use, an object to be molded and made.
i said i saw you in the water
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.
