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
“You’re right.” Again, she is, and again he can see that she isn’t. “You’re not Maea.” A quiet sigh slips from his lips – the admission that he misses her not passing his tongue, no closure with what Delphia had tasked him with doing in order to receive the results he wanted. And now? Now there wouldn’t be. The items she’d left him with in order to do said ritual were burned, charred, left behind.
He supposes that’s what he should be doing too.
So he focuses on his next statement, of Safrin and Ludo, tattooed shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug. “She asked me… Where I was, what I’d done, and I told her I was here. I didn’t go anywhere. I got struck by lightning and Ludo was there… So, I don’t know.” His brows furrow, he shrugs again – not remembering he just had – and takes a deep inhale before sipping from the beer again. “She thought Frey at first but that doesn’t make sense.” And then he’s trailing off, some words coherent and some not, uncertainty lingering through his rumbling tones.
But then she’s smiling and ensuring she’s okay and he flashes a smile back, distracted again. “Good. Good. I don’t want…” He shakes his head. “You don’t want to get sick.” Already he's forgotten he's talking about the adventures on the ship, his mind flicking between that and the sickness.
He supposes that’s what he should be doing too.
So he focuses on his next statement, of Safrin and Ludo, tattooed shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug. “She asked me… Where I was, what I’d done, and I told her I was here. I didn’t go anywhere. I got struck by lightning and Ludo was there… So, I don’t know.” His brows furrow, he shrugs again – not remembering he just had – and takes a deep inhale before sipping from the beer again. “She thought Frey at first but that doesn’t make sense.” And then he’s trailing off, some words coherent and some not, uncertainty lingering through his rumbling tones.
But then she’s smiling and ensuring she’s okay and he flashes a smile back, distracted again. “Good. Good. I don’t want…” He shakes his head. “You don’t want to get sick.” Already he's forgotten he's talking about the adventures on the ship, his mind flicking between that and the sickness.
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.
