// do my worst, shoot the moon, stab the sun. got a curse, on the tip of my tongue
you go first, and i swear that i'll jump. born to kill, tiny slice of the throat //
you go first, and i swear that i'll jump. born to kill, tiny slice of the throat //
“He’s going to lose his mind, probably.” He rumbles as he brandishes the key out of the pocket, slips it into the lock, and opens it up. Upon entering, Bart would find that the left hand side of the entry is geared more politically, more official business, the right? Entirely homey – things of both Sunjata and Nate’s tastes lingering throughout it all. Bart might notice the huge kitchen, with things situated perfectly where Nate had preferred them to be (gods knew that Sunjata wasn’t the cook in this relationship). So he lets Bart in, huffing a small snort. “No. You arrived at a shitty time. It’s monsoon season. Longheat’s coming up soon and it’s warm and quite beachy paradise.” He casts a glance over Bart once again.
Then he pauses to slip out of his boots and his jacket, his tattoos fully visible on his arms now from the sleeveless shirt he wears, reaching up to rub at the compass at his neck. “Shoes off when you’re in the house, by the way.” It had mostly been Nate’s rule, and part of him wonders if it resonates with something deeper. “So, uh, welcome.” Arms spread out to encompass the rest of the home, slipping into it deeper so that he might throw a log on the fireplace. Haai races to greet him, standing stock still as she stares at Bart, wings flaring and gaze narrowing as she peers at him.
But she nears the Accepted, initially letting a snarl loose from her maw as she spies the familiar jacket. But when she sniffs Bart, a whine escapes her and her tail begins to wag, her ears perking, before she’s trying to nudge her face into his leg.
Then he pauses to slip out of his boots and his jacket, his tattoos fully visible on his arms now from the sleeveless shirt he wears, reaching up to rub at the compass at his neck. “Shoes off when you’re in the house, by the way.” It had mostly been Nate’s rule, and part of him wonders if it resonates with something deeper. “So, uh, welcome.” Arms spread out to encompass the rest of the home, slipping into it deeper so that he might throw a log on the fireplace. Haai races to greet him, standing stock still as she stares at Bart, wings flaring and gaze narrowing as she peers at him.
But she nears the Accepted, initially letting a snarl loose from her maw as she spies the familiar jacket. But when she sniffs Bart, a whine escapes her and her tail begins to wag, her ears perking, before she’s trying to nudge her face into his leg.
a new pill, or the poison you know, let it spill && i swear that i'll go
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.
