and if you want, i could tell you the truth
that this life takes a toll on you. i spend nights
It wouldn’t surprise Sunjata, to be honest. He wouldn’t recognize the term, nor any of the abilities the creatures there may have possessed. It’d likely go in one ear and out the other, as does the names of most of the Outlanders he knew had come from. His own wasn’t that much different – a place nobody had heard of, and those that had arrived here from the same plane had died shortly after arriving. He was the last, aside from the stories told from it.
Still, his gaze flickers back toward Neos, shoulders rising and falling in yet another shrug. “When you come from a place that has nothing like this, it’s quite a feat.” And in Sunjata’s opinion, a quiet blessing from his last world. Still, he listens, walking down the alleys in well traced steps while Neos continues, speaking of vampires and the like, amusement lingering within Sunjata at the thought.
Besides, the ring of scars that circle his neck was a sign he’d been involved with the race quite a lot. Still, he snorts, not sure exactly what to say in response to it. “These ones don’t need to do it to sustain themselves typically.” Though when it comes to being undead, Sunjata gleans past it. “They also can’t turn you with a bite. You’d have to go to the Voice if you wanted to change into an Ascended. Likewise, the Voice tends to put you into what race you’d more likely be.” Glancing back over toward Neos, Sunjata shakes his head to the question.
It was a lot to process, and to be honest Sunjata likely won’t remember much of what’s happened other than an information dump, already having too many things on his mind as it were. So he fishes in his pocket, slipping out a cigarette and lighting it, the armored plates on his arms and shoulders retracting to reveal tattooed skin yet again. "What other questions do you have?" He asks in a cloud of smoke.
Still, his gaze flickers back toward Neos, shoulders rising and falling in yet another shrug. “When you come from a place that has nothing like this, it’s quite a feat.” And in Sunjata’s opinion, a quiet blessing from his last world. Still, he listens, walking down the alleys in well traced steps while Neos continues, speaking of vampires and the like, amusement lingering within Sunjata at the thought.
Besides, the ring of scars that circle his neck was a sign he’d been involved with the race quite a lot. Still, he snorts, not sure exactly what to say in response to it. “These ones don’t need to do it to sustain themselves typically.” Though when it comes to being undead, Sunjata gleans past it. “They also can’t turn you with a bite. You’d have to go to the Voice if you wanted to change into an Ascended. Likewise, the Voice tends to put you into what race you’d more likely be.” Glancing back over toward Neos, Sunjata shakes his head to the question.
It was a lot to process, and to be honest Sunjata likely won’t remember much of what’s happened other than an information dump, already having too many things on his mind as it were. So he fishes in his pocket, slipping out a cigarette and lighting it, the armored plates on his arms and shoulders retracting to reveal tattooed skin yet again. "What other questions do you have?" He asks in a cloud of smoke.
stitching up the loose threads of my soul
so in the morning i'm bulletproof
SUNJATA
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.
