leaving well enough alone is no choice of yours to make
guilty says the proof, this town has no room for you
He’s always been a stone in comparison to Sunjata. The Flood has gotten too much of his mother to ever become something his father would be proud of. And it’s this that has him numb when his father reaches for his shirt, pulls him up, the blood dripping from Sunjata’s ruined cheek. But it’s part of the plan, after all, even if he appears broken and crumbling. He absolutely is, (don’t get me wrong) but it’s for other reasons more so.
It’s the pride that makes him snap, that lets all those other words wash across him and off of him. Because two can play at the game Shaju plays, so he gives in. His arms wind around his father, acceptance in the way he presses his face against Shaju’s shoulder, smearing blood across it and wincing with the pain, but does it anyway. He buries his face into his father’s shoulder, and to the rest of them they’ll see the resemblance. They’ll see the way Sunjata carries himself certain ways, a mimicry of the man before him. They’ll see it, they’ll know.
But they don’t know this. They don’t know that he shudders a breath, that he takes a sharp one in, and uses every last bit of his strength to pull Shaju into him, right off the side of the cliff.
And down they go, down and down in the rain and the glimmers of gold, until Sunjata can manage to disentangle himself from his father, above the storming waves below. It’s not without a fight, though, his arm wounded in the fall. But he manages it, too close for comfort, feeling the salty spray, shifting into his macaw shift, pumping his wings to try and gain some space between them. He watches his father’s body fall into the water below, he watches it disappear.
And then his wing bends against the winds that lash against him, and down and down and down the Flood goes too. A shocked and pained cry of the macaw is made, a wave cresting and falling upon him, swallowing him up within it just off the coast.
And he disappears beneath the waves as well.
Alright, this is now OPEN FOR EVERYONE for reactions if you want ;D
It’s the pride that makes him snap, that lets all those other words wash across him and off of him. Because two can play at the game Shaju plays, so he gives in. His arms wind around his father, acceptance in the way he presses his face against Shaju’s shoulder, smearing blood across it and wincing with the pain, but does it anyway. He buries his face into his father’s shoulder, and to the rest of them they’ll see the resemblance. They’ll see the way Sunjata carries himself certain ways, a mimicry of the man before him. They’ll see it, they’ll know.
But they don’t know this. They don’t know that he shudders a breath, that he takes a sharp one in, and uses every last bit of his strength to pull Shaju into him, right off the side of the cliff.
And down they go, down and down in the rain and the glimmers of gold, until Sunjata can manage to disentangle himself from his father, above the storming waves below. It’s not without a fight, though, his arm wounded in the fall. But he manages it, too close for comfort, feeling the salty spray, shifting into his macaw shift, pumping his wings to try and gain some space between them. He watches his father’s body fall into the water below, he watches it disappear.
And then his wing bends against the winds that lash against him, and down and down and down the Flood goes too. A shocked and pained cry of the macaw is made, a wave cresting and falling upon him, swallowing him up within it just off the coast.
And he disappears beneath the waves as well.
Alright, this is now OPEN FOR EVERYONE for reactions if you want ;D
so look out, i fear they follow near
from the gallows you'll swing for all the kids to see
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.
