SUNJATA
the flood
It happens so fast, so fast. Sunjata’s apologies die on his lips, the fight against Ronin growing into nothing, the young boy clinging in wonder as the sound of a fist hitting a jaw hits. And he flinches, because he knows intimately just what that felt like. Except typically Sunjata was on the receiving end, a secret he’d kept close and only told Maea. A secret that he hadn’t even summed up to telling Nate just yet.
Yet Ronin would know.
So he shuts it out, tight, like the lock of the door to the cabin as Ronin’s words reach him, pulling his soaked head from Ronin’s shoulder where he’d buried it to feel the warmth of the hearth, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla spread throughout, of warm blankets and books that he can smell the years within.
He slips out of Ronin’s grasp, blood still dripping lightly from his leg as he hits the ground – but he doesn’t notice it, doesn’t notice the pain of it as the surprise of what’s occurring before him bewilders him. He stops for a moment, tentatively wanting to reach for Ronin’s hand but recalling the way his father had reacted.
So he picks up his speed, darting into the dining room and trailing his hand along the oak of the table until he comes around the other side of it and peers at Ronin from just over the table. “Is this mine, Ronin?” His small voice pipes up tentatively, afraid of the answer – yet knowing and not knowing the Star’s name – as pieces of the cabin shift to flicker and filter in the home they sleep in now, the one Sunjata had built for himself twenty years later. In the distance, a crashing sound of the sea can be heard like a balm.
Yet Ronin would know.
So he shuts it out, tight, like the lock of the door to the cabin as Ronin’s words reach him, pulling his soaked head from Ronin’s shoulder where he’d buried it to feel the warmth of the hearth, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla spread throughout, of warm blankets and books that he can smell the years within.
He slips out of Ronin’s grasp, blood still dripping lightly from his leg as he hits the ground – but he doesn’t notice it, doesn’t notice the pain of it as the surprise of what’s occurring before him bewilders him. He stops for a moment, tentatively wanting to reach for Ronin’s hand but recalling the way his father had reacted.
So he picks up his speed, darting into the dining room and trailing his hand along the oak of the table until he comes around the other side of it and peers at Ronin from just over the table. “Is this mine, Ronin?” His small voice pipes up tentatively, afraid of the answer – yet knowing and not knowing the Star’s name – as pieces of the cabin shift to flicker and filter in the home they sleep in now, the one Sunjata had built for himself twenty years later. In the distance, a crashing sound of the sea can be heard like a balm.
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.
