// i had enough, i need your innocence. don't let up. just give me your love
give me your release, i need your healing, of your touch, i can take it, i can take the pain //
give me your release, i need your healing, of your touch, i can take it, i can take the pain //
The way Ronin speaks around the bone in his mouth does manage to spark an edge of a smile on Sunjata’s face, one that breaks through the darkness of it all. “Thanks.” He half mutters, half mumbles as he focuses on the food before them and the talk of festering wounds both mentally and physically. “Some would say I already have.” He says this as he downs the shrimp and moves to snag the ahi, breaking into the flaky fish with some hidden spark of gusto.
“I find that hard to believe. I hardly speak to her.” Though he supposes that might be what keeps him on her good side, given everything that Ronin has gone through. But there’s a filled glass of whiskey and Sunjata abandons everything else to grab it, a slightly less cheerful cheers given from the Flood to Star in return. The admission is a quiet one, one that’s abrupt and not following the thought pattern at all that he assumes Ronin’s mind is (he presumes it’s all over the food), but his gaze lifts as he sets the glass down after taking a drink, to spy his friend.
He’s silent for a moment, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows before nodding and picking the bones out of the Ahi. “Yes.” He says quietly, before his head is tilting slightly, wings ruffling a bit. “No dream magic. Or if it is, please tell me.” He sighs, stabbing the ahi by accident, a loosened leash of his tempered frustration.
“I find that hard to believe. I hardly speak to her.” Though he supposes that might be what keeps him on her good side, given everything that Ronin has gone through. But there’s a filled glass of whiskey and Sunjata abandons everything else to grab it, a slightly less cheerful cheers given from the Flood to Star in return. The admission is a quiet one, one that’s abrupt and not following the thought pattern at all that he assumes Ronin’s mind is (he presumes it’s all over the food), but his gaze lifts as he sets the glass down after taking a drink, to spy his friend.
He’s silent for a moment, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows before nodding and picking the bones out of the Ahi. “Yes.” He says quietly, before his head is tilting slightly, wings ruffling a bit. “No dream magic. Or if it is, please tell me.” He sighs, stabbing the ahi by accident, a loosened leash of his tempered frustration.
it's all for you, for you, for you. it's always been for you
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.
