so you drink your day away till the liquor in your mouth laughs
Ronin doesn’t shift. No, he just stares with that look on his face, the one that Sunjata doesn’t know whether to hate him for or aspire for, and it’s a tangible thread of uncertainty that sharpens through the bond. He is disappointing. He’s heard it all month. He’s heard it since he was a child. He’s heard those very same words come from his Father time and time again.
He never learns though.
A deep, rumbling growl leaves Sunjata, vibrating through the alley and homes before the dragon shakes his head. It’s pointless anyway, to retaliate. Ronin can’t die. Nor does he really want the Star to die. He just…
He just wants to be understood for once.
But nobody would get it. Nobody does.
And Sunjata? He isn’t a killer anymore. He never wanted to be in the first place. He never wanted to be put in a situation like he was before, and he slowly feels himself slipping back into it as much as he rebels against it.
His head tilts up and he lets that lightning go into the sky, into the storm, crackling and booming before he’s deflating and a sense of unending sorrow and frustration and pain leaves him, straight for Ronin. He shrinks, shifting back into himself, sat upon the alley and doused in rain, legs folded beneath him and his head in his hands. Because I love him. So much, Ronin. And I have to fight in the fucking war. And I’m scared. Fuck. Even through the attuned bond his voice is choked, it burns.
He never learns though.
A deep, rumbling growl leaves Sunjata, vibrating through the alley and homes before the dragon shakes his head. It’s pointless anyway, to retaliate. Ronin can’t die. Nor does he really want the Star to die. He just…
He just wants to be understood for once.
But nobody would get it. Nobody does.
And Sunjata? He isn’t a killer anymore. He never wanted to be in the first place. He never wanted to be put in a situation like he was before, and he slowly feels himself slipping back into it as much as he rebels against it.
His head tilts up and he lets that lightning go into the sky, into the storm, crackling and booming before he’s deflating and a sense of unending sorrow and frustration and pain leaves him, straight for Ronin. He shrinks, shifting back into himself, sat upon the alley and doused in rain, legs folded beneath him and his head in his hands. Because I love him. So much, Ronin. And I have to fight in the fucking war. And I’m scared. Fuck. Even through the attuned bond his voice is choked, it burns.
and the mirrors paint you beautiful like older photographs
but we grow, we grow old, even this won't last
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.
