SUNJATA
the flood
all the drinkin' and the druggin' and the black and the red
the achy skin and all the sweat in my bed
the achy skin and all the sweat in my bed
She takes his hands, her own calloused against his, and he can feel it — feel the way there’s a light squeeze, enough that her question has him lifting his head from behind his knees, sad shadowed steel focusing on the young woman’s face, trying not to keep it from shifting into someone else.
His head shakes, a quiet shaky breath leaving him. “I can’t remember.” Which is very much the problem. His memory has been terrible since the sea panther, and it had only gotten worse with the sickness racing through his body. “I remember being in bed… And then here.” He doesn’t remember how he got here, doesn’t remember the steps he’d taken to get to the beach from the Slagveld. But all he knows is that he’s lost a very important part of himself and is helpless in where to start searching.
He watches her wipe a tear away and he shies away from the teardrop, from the water it represents, his gaze looking past her to the ocean’s waves. “I think… I let the bat go too.” His brows furrow as he searches through the parts of his mind that focus in and out of the blank blackness. “Will you come home with me?” He asks suddenly, fevered body sweaty and warm, jerking his head to her face to see if she would.
His head shakes, a quiet shaky breath leaving him. “I can’t remember.” Which is very much the problem. His memory has been terrible since the sea panther, and it had only gotten worse with the sickness racing through his body. “I remember being in bed… And then here.” He doesn’t remember how he got here, doesn’t remember the steps he’d taken to get to the beach from the Slagveld. But all he knows is that he’s lost a very important part of himself and is helpless in where to start searching.
He watches her wipe a tear away and he shies away from the teardrop, from the water it represents, his gaze looking past her to the ocean’s waves. “I think… I let the bat go too.” His brows furrow as he searches through the parts of his mind that focus in and out of the blank blackness. “Will you come home with me?” He asks suddenly, fevered body sweaty and warm, jerking his head to her face to see if she would.
i think i'm losin' too much
but there's just never enough
but there's just never enough
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.
