SuNjATA
the flood
At the very least, the rain that cascades around the home nonstop does seem incredibly reminiscent of Korofi. Aside from that, though, the rest of it was far off the mark. A home with warmth and lives within that seemed happy, even if there were struggles to still be fully addressed. For now, it was quite the opposite of the cold walls of the home of their upbringing, even if it still remained somewhat big, somewhat elegant, somewhat fancy.
He slips into the room, his steel gaze spying his sister by the window as she moves closer to him. The question from her lips as he moves to grab her plate and hand it to her, has a bark of a laugh leaving him. His head shakes, moving to head to the table that’s sat by the window just big enough for the both of them where he takes a seat and flashes her an amused smile. “No, I can’t. Not well anyway.” He rumbles, tattooed shoulders rising and falling in a shrug.
“Nate made it.” He picks up a fork and waits for her to sit and settle into her meal before he digs in – an old habit that’s arisen now that he’s in the same room as her. “How are you feeling?” He's absolutely noticed the bruises on her face, reminiscent of the ones that are now faded on his own.
He has to ask, because it's his job as her brother. He has to ask because there's still this small portion of him that regrets his departure, of losing her, of her having to endure whatever it was she'd gone through because he wasn't there to protect her, after all the times she'd been there for him.
He slips into the room, his steel gaze spying his sister by the window as she moves closer to him. The question from her lips as he moves to grab her plate and hand it to her, has a bark of a laugh leaving him. His head shakes, moving to head to the table that’s sat by the window just big enough for the both of them where he takes a seat and flashes her an amused smile. “No, I can’t. Not well anyway.” He rumbles, tattooed shoulders rising and falling in a shrug.
“Nate made it.” He picks up a fork and waits for her to sit and settle into her meal before he digs in – an old habit that’s arisen now that he’s in the same room as her. “How are you feeling?” He's absolutely noticed the bruises on her face, reminiscent of the ones that are now faded on his own.
He has to ask, because it's his job as her brother. He has to ask because there's still this small portion of him that regrets his departure, of losing her, of her having to endure whatever it was she'd gone through because he wasn't there to protect her, after all the times she'd been there for him.
if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?
would we fly?
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.
