// tell me what you know, i'm in deeper than i've ever been
i will never grow, while this anchor is chained to my feet //
i will never grow, while this anchor is chained to my feet //
He can see the switch, can feel the worry and panic underneath it, not entirely soothing. Nothing about it is, not when Nate’s thumbs are slipping up and Sunjata can’t help the reflexive reaction of his shoulders and arms suddenly covering with interlocking plates, flecked with feathers throughout, hissing around the thumbs in his mouth and the way he doesn’t know exactly how to respond to whatever it was Nate planned on doing. Wait, hang on—
Turns out he doesn’t really get a chance to – it’s probably for the better, ripping the bandaid off as they say. But he hates the fucking one two three game, unable to keep himself from tensing regardless, Nate’s strength and speed shocking and surprising, lacing his body with both pain and surprise, like a jolt against him. Fuck!
And he can feel the way the bone grinds against the other, the way there’s literally nothing to soften the pain other than what his body attempts to – which isn’t much. A sharp intake of breath, nostrils flaring, eyes shutting tight, the urge to shift himself to get himself away from the pain, the urge to use his useless jaw and shift himself into something to bite Nate’s fingers off, but nothing comes aside from the cry of pain with the grinding of bone, the edge of it heading toward a roar of it, electricity lighting up his throat in blue that matches one of Nate’s eyes so well.
But just as quickly as it happens, Nate’s hands soften and Sunjata’s slumping, panting through his nose, the electricity still glowing in his throat, a dull and hollow sense through the bond that’s almost a mix of sharp, shooting pain and rage. The armored plates continue to flit up and up until it covers his neck. Godsfuckingdamnit.
Turns out he doesn’t really get a chance to – it’s probably for the better, ripping the bandaid off as they say. But he hates the fucking one two three game, unable to keep himself from tensing regardless, Nate’s strength and speed shocking and surprising, lacing his body with both pain and surprise, like a jolt against him. Fuck!
And he can feel the way the bone grinds against the other, the way there’s literally nothing to soften the pain other than what his body attempts to – which isn’t much. A sharp intake of breath, nostrils flaring, eyes shutting tight, the urge to shift himself to get himself away from the pain, the urge to use his useless jaw and shift himself into something to bite Nate’s fingers off, but nothing comes aside from the cry of pain with the grinding of bone, the edge of it heading toward a roar of it, electricity lighting up his throat in blue that matches one of Nate’s eyes so well.
But just as quickly as it happens, Nate’s hands soften and Sunjata’s slumping, panting through his nose, the electricity still glowing in his throat, a dull and hollow sense through the bond that’s almost a mix of sharp, shooting pain and rage. The armored plates continue to flit up and up until it covers his neck. Godsfuckingdamnit.
i settled my grievance by crafting a mask, and i never looked back
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.
