Breathe in now, do what you can
There’s a hum that leaves him but nothing else committal when she speaks, the Flood content to listen to the pieces of glass as they scrape against the stone, as the wire is moved along and tied, his hEARS coming in handy to hear any other quieter whispers — though she doesn’t whisper. So instead, his eyes slip shut, he keeps his hands to himself, avoids glaring at the stars to close his eyes and focus on the water that he can hear crash against the beach.
“You were.” Comes his accented rumble, remembering just how much she’d hated the ocean. How he’d convinced her to give it a second chance. Not unlike her experience with the gods too, something Sunjata had helped point her in the direction, and now look at her?
But she repeats one of the things he said all those years ago and the demigod can’t help but to snort, broad shoulders rising and falling in a shrug, sand falling from where it’s clung to bronze skin. “It’s one of the least forgiving ways to be overwhelmed.” He begins, summoning that pocket of water again to let it loop languidly once, twice, three times around where she sat to make her lantern, narrowing in closer to circle around her neck as he glances up to make sure he’s not going to give her a face full of water. “But I think that’s part of the appeal.” He stills it as if it’s some kind of mobile choker, a ring of water that surrounds her neck, before he pushes it away, letting the string of it fall into the waves down below.
“You were.” Comes his accented rumble, remembering just how much she’d hated the ocean. How he’d convinced her to give it a second chance. Not unlike her experience with the gods too, something Sunjata had helped point her in the direction, and now look at her?
But she repeats one of the things he said all those years ago and the demigod can’t help but to snort, broad shoulders rising and falling in a shrug, sand falling from where it’s clung to bronze skin. “It’s one of the least forgiving ways to be overwhelmed.” He begins, summoning that pocket of water again to let it loop languidly once, twice, three times around where she sat to make her lantern, narrowing in closer to circle around her neck as he glances up to make sure he’s not going to give her a face full of water. “But I think that’s part of the appeal.” He stills it as if it’s some kind of mobile choker, a ring of water that surrounds her neck, before he pushes it away, letting the string of it fall into the waves down below.
the flood
And fuck the rest, you know it's all beside you now
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
