SUNJATA
the flood
you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face
It’s true, he doesn’t know that she can feel his whirlwind of emotions. If he did, he’d likely have tampered them down, swallowed them whole. Instead, they’re out in the open and as soon as that piece of burnt rubble departs his hand in a furious throw and he’s rubbing his face, he hears her grit out his name. Before he looks to her, though, she’ll feel the lightest thread of relief that swells through him with her presence, the fact that she’s one of the few people he can trust anymore, and unfortunately for Aurelia he tosses it all into her basket.
But then he turns, he faces her, exhausted steel scanning her face and finding that it’s different, and his rage and despair have shifted into confusion, paranoia, while he works his jaw to debate whether this was some other vision despite how he hasn’t had them in a while. She apologizes, says that it happened while he and Nate were gone, but it still makes little to no sense for him to see her look so different yet similar. The voice is the same at least.
He blinks once, twice, a third time, before he’s inhaling sharply from his nose – not revealing anything if he can’t help it. Because what if she isn’t Aurelia and it’s some terrible elaborate trick?
It’s his father talking within him, he knows this, and yet he can’t stop.
“You look different.” He says flatly, his voice hoarse and throaty, cracking at the edge before he’s swallowing hard, trying to make it feel less dry, less tight, less painful.
But then he turns, he faces her, exhausted steel scanning her face and finding that it’s different, and his rage and despair have shifted into confusion, paranoia, while he works his jaw to debate whether this was some other vision despite how he hasn’t had them in a while. She apologizes, says that it happened while he and Nate were gone, but it still makes little to no sense for him to see her look so different yet similar. The voice is the same at least.
He blinks once, twice, a third time, before he’s inhaling sharply from his nose – not revealing anything if he can’t help it. Because what if she isn’t Aurelia and it’s some terrible elaborate trick?
It’s his father talking within him, he knows this, and yet he can’t stop.
“You look different.” He says flatly, his voice hoarse and throaty, cracking at the edge before he’s swallowing hard, trying to make it feel less dry, less tight, less painful.
by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it
and it hurts 'cause we survived it
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.
