SUNJATA
the flood
there was a moment, a hole opened in the sky
a chance to join that pantheon
a chance to join that pantheon
The grey dreamlike expanse Remi has crafted, does not stay the same at all. Not as soon as he nears Sunjata’s own dream, an infection that leaks out and immediately begins to change the scape from a lifeless space, into one perhaps too bustling for Remi’s expectations. The white leaks away into storm clouds, rain pelting along the sidewalks of the city of Korofi, flowing into a river by a bridge (yes, the very same that Sunjata had been thrown off 22 years prior), that courses and rushes with a roar. The buildings themselves are tall, in some places as tall as the spire off in the distance. But this is the border to the slums, the border that leads to the underground.
And this dream? Well, it’s one of the better ones for Remi, one that has a distinct amount less trauma than the rest of the lot.
Cars drive past the Lullaby, a couple of motorcycles that weave in and out of the potholes of puddles. On the other side of the bridge there are patrol cars that pass, ones with flickering lights and armored sides that almost appear to be searching for someone.
One of the bikes, however, stops by Remi — some of Sunjata’s subconscious coming back to remember what this was for. The bike stops, Sunjata shuts it down, and he moves to stand from the bike and pulls his helmet off. Remi would be able to see that Sunjata’s younger, not quite as scarred or inked as he is now. He might also see that the Flood is clean shaven beneath the helmet as it’s removed.
He gestures for Remi toward the rail above the water, one where he heads to and scans the water below before he turns to face the Lullaby, swallowing hard. “This is Korofi, in case you’re wondering.” He begins, pausing to work his jaw. “So… You took Hotaru.” Here his voice isn’t painful, here he can talk as he always had. It’s relieving, truthfully.
And this dream? Well, it’s one of the better ones for Remi, one that has a distinct amount less trauma than the rest of the lot.
Cars drive past the Lullaby, a couple of motorcycles that weave in and out of the potholes of puddles. On the other side of the bridge there are patrol cars that pass, ones with flickering lights and armored sides that almost appear to be searching for someone.
One of the bikes, however, stops by Remi — some of Sunjata’s subconscious coming back to remember what this was for. The bike stops, Sunjata shuts it down, and he moves to stand from the bike and pulls his helmet off. Remi would be able to see that Sunjata’s younger, not quite as scarred or inked as he is now. He might also see that the Flood is clean shaven beneath the helmet as it’s removed.
He gestures for Remi toward the rail above the water, one where he heads to and scans the water below before he turns to face the Lullaby, swallowing hard. “This is Korofi, in case you’re wondering.” He begins, pausing to work his jaw. “So… You took Hotaru.” Here his voice isn’t painful, here he can talk as he always had. It’s relieving, truthfully.
for all the times they never heard your battlecry
now be an angel, sing along
now be an angel, sing along
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.
