SuNjATA
the flood
He’s forgotten that he hadn’t explained what Attuning was, what the different races were here, how Saar would have the ability to find people with magic and animal shifts, and those like Nate with mechanical natures that could siphon the abilities the others had. He’d forgotten to mention to her that he’d become one of them, a favored one nonetheless, but he’s sure that topic will come up at some point.
As it were right now, though, Sunjata looks up at his sister with a darkening gaze, inhaling a slow breath as his brows pinch together in a fair amount of confusion. “He’s actually dead this time?” He asks after a moment, a quiet consideration given the fact that he’d tried to kill Gaal, that he had killed his fiancé in their attempts to get out. And yet, he hadn’t. Gaal had managed to survive it somehow, through some medical miracle he’s sure.
His brows remain pinched as she mentions that Gaal never told her anything and Sunjata doesn’t know why Gaal would tell her anything until the next words fall across the space between them. His gaze drops to the scar that spans Saar’s palm – one that spans his own when he goes to grab it and inspect it, calloused fingers running along the length of it as the dread pools in his stomach. “Four years?” He asks quietly, gaze lifting to her face, before he’s pushing the chair back to stand, reaching up to lift her head to him. “Saartjie... Did he do this to you?” He asks, his voice taking on a deeper, hint of anger and despair intermingled.
As it were right now, though, Sunjata looks up at his sister with a darkening gaze, inhaling a slow breath as his brows pinch together in a fair amount of confusion. “He’s actually dead this time?” He asks after a moment, a quiet consideration given the fact that he’d tried to kill Gaal, that he had killed his fiancé in their attempts to get out. And yet, he hadn’t. Gaal had managed to survive it somehow, through some medical miracle he’s sure.
His brows remain pinched as she mentions that Gaal never told her anything and Sunjata doesn’t know why Gaal would tell her anything until the next words fall across the space between them. His gaze drops to the scar that spans Saar’s palm – one that spans his own when he goes to grab it and inspect it, calloused fingers running along the length of it as the dread pools in his stomach. “Four years?” He asks quietly, gaze lifting to her face, before he’s pushing the chair back to stand, reaching up to lift her head to him. “Saartjie... Did he do this to you?” He asks, his voice taking on a deeper, hint of anger and despair intermingled.
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.
