SUNJATA
angel loves to keep me spinning, much too high to see
that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
He shifts and she sinks back down and Sunjata’s at war with himself. One ear perks when her hand touches his snout and runs her hand along his head and his head, the Attuned’s body relaxing only slightly. Still, he closes his eyes, rumbling a quiet goodnight through the bond to Hotaru, and waits until his anxiety settles enough for him to sleep.
It works for the most part, he stays asleep for a majority of the night aside from the few short bursts where he’s half woken with quiet canine whines, like pain seeping out of him like a sponge that’s been squeezed. But Hotaru manages to quiet him down, little touches that he’s barely conscious enough to notice, and before he knows it?
Sun filters in through the window of the Inn, overcast as most Flowerbirth mornings are in Torchline. Steel eyes pry themselves open, a shiver that races down his spine as he shifts back into himself, face burrowing underneath the pillow as he tries to push away the throbbing in his head. It’s only belated that he realizes that this isn’t his room, that the scent is wrong, but his body feels too much like lead to do anything about it.
Instead, he simply manages to press the pillow into his face more as if it might alleviate some of the pain until he can get his bearings, completely forgetting for the moment that he’s not alone in the bed.
It works for the most part, he stays asleep for a majority of the night aside from the few short bursts where he’s half woken with quiet canine whines, like pain seeping out of him like a sponge that’s been squeezed. But Hotaru manages to quiet him down, little touches that he’s barely conscious enough to notice, and before he knows it?
Sun filters in through the window of the Inn, overcast as most Flowerbirth mornings are in Torchline. Steel eyes pry themselves open, a shiver that races down his spine as he shifts back into himself, face burrowing underneath the pillow as he tries to push away the throbbing in his head. It’s only belated that he realizes that this isn’t his room, that the scent is wrong, but his body feels too much like lead to do anything about it.
Instead, he simply manages to press the pillow into his face more as if it might alleviate some of the pain until he can get his bearings, completely forgetting for the moment that he’s not alone in the bed.
every choice, every lie, demons that he kept inside
angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
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.
