SUNJATA
the flood
He wakes to screaming. He doesn’t know when it started, doesn’t know how long it’s been going on. But there’s words that form within it, something that has him getting up, removing the blanket he’d wrapped himself in, spending a moment to realize that Nate isn’t in the room and letting the confusion of that spiral for a good few seconds.
But then, much like a trail, he follows the sound down the staircase, along the hallways corridor, realizing slowly that the screaming isn’t Nate and it’s something else. He can see his fiancé facing the wall, the space where the sounds come from, and with a bit of a chimeric feature to his body — horns sprouted and navy feathers flaring along his skin — he slides over to Nate’s side. “What…?” He’s asking as his arm slips around Nate briefly, spying Sam writhing on the floor like a frightened child.
“What’s he doing here?” He asks, sinking into Nate’s side and resting his head along Nate’s shoulder — careful to not bump his head with the horns that spiral out from his own. He peers at Sam from where he stands, his arm protectively tight around Nate, not that he finds Sam to be a threat in normal circumstances, his fevered mind considers almost everyone a threat at the end of the day. His gaze drifts to Nate then, looking over what he can see from the space he’s placed his head just so he might ensure he wasn’t hurt. “Are you okay?”
But then, much like a trail, he follows the sound down the staircase, along the hallways corridor, realizing slowly that the screaming isn’t Nate and it’s something else. He can see his fiancé facing the wall, the space where the sounds come from, and with a bit of a chimeric feature to his body — horns sprouted and navy feathers flaring along his skin — he slides over to Nate’s side. “What…?” He’s asking as his arm slips around Nate briefly, spying Sam writhing on the floor like a frightened child.
“What’s he doing here?” He asks, sinking into Nate’s side and resting his head along Nate’s shoulder — careful to not bump his head with the horns that spiral out from his own. He peers at Sam from where he stands, his arm protectively tight around Nate, not that he finds Sam to be a threat in normal circumstances, his fevered mind considers almost everyone a threat at the end of the day. His gaze drifts to Nate then, looking over what he can see from the space he’s placed his head just so he might ensure he wasn’t hurt. “Are you okay?”
hard drugs, fake love; it's a sensation
makes one hell of a collaboration
makes one hell of a collaboration
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.
