// i am the man we both couldn't stand. i can't wash the dirt from my hands. what was it like to feel in love?
i can't scrub off the black from my lungs, i can't wipe off the taste from my tongue //
i can't scrub off the black from my lungs, i can't wipe off the taste from my tongue //
There’s a covering of darkness, a part of Sunjata shying away as it descends. But he swallows down whatever foreign, anxious feelings that begin to run rampant, following the crowds from Haulani and the Slagveld, to go and join in on what’s occurred. Piles and piles of dolls line the way, Sunjata not quite realizing he’d grabbed his as he departed — a makeshift cloth Ludo with practiced stitches and a pale painted mask.
It isn’t his best work, nothing close to it. But Sunjata wasn’t an artist, hadn’t seen the deity since before Maea had died, and with all of that his focus had been elsewhere. But he arrives, he places his doll, and he hangs in the wings of the crowd — observing, jaw set tight, the shadowed flickering of a figure he’s been trying to ignore popping up in his peripheral vision nearly making him recoil again.
And he waits.
It isn’t his best work, nothing close to it. But Sunjata wasn’t an artist, hadn’t seen the deity since before Maea had died, and with all of that his focus had been elsewhere. But he arrives, he places his doll, and he hangs in the wings of the crowd — observing, jaw set tight, the shadowed flickering of a figure he’s been trying to ignore popping up in his peripheral vision nearly making him recoil again.
And he waits.
i am the shadow driving the hearse, what was it like to feel in love? what was it like to feel?
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.
