SUNJATA
the flood
i can still see your face looking back through the flames
and i search it, was it worth it?
and i search it, was it worth it?
Nate could switch it up as much as he wanted, it’s not like Sunjata would complain. Gods knew he’d had his own ups and downs over and over again with Nate having to pick up the pieces. And even if Sunjata was falling apart right now, he pulls himself together enough to offer the help for Nate – something to focus on, a quirk of his lips, a bark of laughter that rings through the air that mimics his husbands. “Ice cream trucks?” He asks, infinitely curious. “Did you just have trucks that drove down the street with ice cream in it?” He asks, passing over the idea of old movies. That made sense to him. Trucks with ice cream, though?
Sounds like a dream, to be honest.
But they agree that it’s strange, Sunjata not wanting to dwell on it too much – not sure if he’s even smart enough to know where to start to unravel any of that. So he focuses instead on the lingering feel of Nate’s kiss to his neck as his husband sits back and steadies himself, Sunjata’s attention focused on Nate’s collar before lifting up once his husband’s done wiping the tears from his eyes.
There’s a thumb that brushes along his jaw, however, and Sunjata leans into it gently with a soft smile. “Good.” He murmurs, gaze shuddering slightly before Nate’s leaning in and pressing his lips to the Attuned, lingering close enough that he can feel the words that leave his husband as the kiss ends. His arms wrap around Nate a bit tighter, his head bumping up a bit to brush his nose against the Ascended’s, soft steel peering into a similar steel and electrifying blue gaze.
“Well… Before we do anything that’s fun, I do need your help with something a bit less fun.” There’s almost an apologetic smile that crosses his face, gone in a second as he leans in and presses a slightly longer kiss against his husband’s lips. I had an accident in the jungles and I got tangled in the vines. They, uh, they broke my wing? I think? He pulls away a bit more then, scanning Nate’s face – pulsing down the bond with apology and confirmation that he’s okay despite it.
His shirt is soon discarded, tossed into a heap. He seems relatively fine on the outside – aside from the bruise between his wing and one formed on the back of his neck that’s far more faded than the other. And he searches his soul for the shift with the extra appendages, latching onto the first one he feels, and from his back with a huff of pain unfurls tricolored wings, feathered and beautiful – except for the one that’s bent and twisted wrong, that droops more than the other.
At this point, Sunjata’s eyes are closed, however, and he doesn’t notice the feathers, doesn’t notice the fact that these wings aren’t at all correct.
Sounds like a dream, to be honest.
But they agree that it’s strange, Sunjata not wanting to dwell on it too much – not sure if he’s even smart enough to know where to start to unravel any of that. So he focuses instead on the lingering feel of Nate’s kiss to his neck as his husband sits back and steadies himself, Sunjata’s attention focused on Nate’s collar before lifting up once his husband’s done wiping the tears from his eyes.
There’s a thumb that brushes along his jaw, however, and Sunjata leans into it gently with a soft smile. “Good.” He murmurs, gaze shuddering slightly before Nate’s leaning in and pressing his lips to the Attuned, lingering close enough that he can feel the words that leave his husband as the kiss ends. His arms wrap around Nate a bit tighter, his head bumping up a bit to brush his nose against the Ascended’s, soft steel peering into a similar steel and electrifying blue gaze.
“Well… Before we do anything that’s fun, I do need your help with something a bit less fun.” There’s almost an apologetic smile that crosses his face, gone in a second as he leans in and presses a slightly longer kiss against his husband’s lips. I had an accident in the jungles and I got tangled in the vines. They, uh, they broke my wing? I think? He pulls away a bit more then, scanning Nate’s face – pulsing down the bond with apology and confirmation that he’s okay despite it.
His shirt is soon discarded, tossed into a heap. He seems relatively fine on the outside – aside from the bruise between his wing and one formed on the back of his neck that’s far more faded than the other. And he searches his soul for the shift with the extra appendages, latching onto the first one he feels, and from his back with a huff of pain unfurls tricolored wings, feathered and beautiful – except for the one that’s bent and twisted wrong, that droops more than the other.
At this point, Sunjata’s eyes are closed, however, and he doesn’t notice the feathers, doesn’t notice the fact that these wings aren’t at all correct.
no i don't mind the smoke, but your tears make me choke
are you okay? should i go away?
are you okay? should i go away?
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.
