SUNJATA
i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring
and meeting all my vices in the ring
The air deepens, the darkness encroaching – not visibly, but in the way the conversation shifts, storm clouds on the horizon that bring cold winds of reliving their previous traumas. Perhaps he’s more prone to it now, with the visions he’s been spying throughout Torchline, the ones that have him spending part of his day as his dragon form, scouting and scouring the lands for any sign – and then there were Jack’s eyes, ones that kept a lookout as well – ones that likely stood outside the Slagveld this very moment.
She mirrors him in a sense, their bodies facing one another, his steel gaze focused on her face before it tears away to the wall, to anything else but her when his pep talk is done. It doesn’t feel like much of one – feeling more like a ‘cheers to growing up fucked up’, but sometimes that was all anyone needed. His gaze does snap back to her when she says she hears him, a slow dip of his head before he’s dragging on his cigarette again and pausing to take a sip of his drink.
“Some sort of cruel, slow suicide.” He agrees, darkly, chewing on the inside of his cheek, muscles feathering in his jaw. But he’s drawn silent, torn between looking at her when she speaks, when her gaze flickers and he finds himself looking past her again to the shadows grown by the lanterns hanging around, gaze flickering toward a certain bronze and fiery one in the back, unlit, purely for decoration for this month – just one of the symbols of the things he’s lost.
He does look back to her eventually, throat a bit hoarse, gravelly as he goes to speak. “I don’t think I plan on running anymore.” He murmurs, mulling it over, gaze narrowing slightly as he considers it, a sharpened edge to the steel of his eyes when the silver meets her face again. “There have been so many things taken. I can’t let it take more.” The darkness, whatever it was that followed them and made things tough, awful, paralyzing. But he reaches forward with the glass now, clinking it against her own. “Here’s to telling the darkness to go fuck itself, hm?”
She mirrors him in a sense, their bodies facing one another, his steel gaze focused on her face before it tears away to the wall, to anything else but her when his pep talk is done. It doesn’t feel like much of one – feeling more like a ‘cheers to growing up fucked up’, but sometimes that was all anyone needed. His gaze does snap back to her when she says she hears him, a slow dip of his head before he’s dragging on his cigarette again and pausing to take a sip of his drink.
“Some sort of cruel, slow suicide.” He agrees, darkly, chewing on the inside of his cheek, muscles feathering in his jaw. But he’s drawn silent, torn between looking at her when she speaks, when her gaze flickers and he finds himself looking past her again to the shadows grown by the lanterns hanging around, gaze flickering toward a certain bronze and fiery one in the back, unlit, purely for decoration for this month – just one of the symbols of the things he’s lost.
He does look back to her eventually, throat a bit hoarse, gravelly as he goes to speak. “I don’t think I plan on running anymore.” He murmurs, mulling it over, gaze narrowing slightly as he considers it, a sharpened edge to the steel of his eyes when the silver meets her face again. “There have been so many things taken. I can’t let it take more.” The darkness, whatever it was that followed them and made things tough, awful, paralyzing. But he reaches forward with the glass now, clinking it against her own. “Here’s to telling the darkness to go fuck itself, hm?”
so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me
there ain't a casket strong enough for me
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.
