SUNJATA
the flood
i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind
on the pavement, blowing in the wind
It’s a tough situation – made only that much more difficult by those he had blamed for the fires, for lumping it all together with the main one that had targeted him mostly directly. But they had been flames that were placed when he wasn’t even there – burning the last few dregs of trust that he’d had with Torchline. It’s what drove him to ascend Nate into governing with him.
It’s what drove Safrin to pin that knife wedge between them. It’s what made him step down, leave, for the betterment of Torchline supposedly. And now he has to sit here, lines drawn, choosing the Ascended and giving up the one thing he’d wanted to keep safe during the war that looms on the horizon.
Perhaps Maea’s internal conflict stirs that unrest within him, that realization that: No, he doesn’t get to keep his husband safe in the war as he had wanted to do, as Frey had offered to do. Because the Voice needed him to make a difference in the upcoming war and Maea had simply drove her own knife in between the two Ascended when the true battle still lies ahead.
He finishes the lines, working out his frustration in the form of a feathering jaw, in the way he only glances up slightly as she agrees to his suggestion of a letter. “Mhm.” He offers, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s at a loss for words.
“If I’m being honest, I’m glad you did tell me.” He admits, focusing on the lantern as he starts to piece little red plates of metal and cherry wood in little details along the paper. “Can I ask you something before you go?” And he pauses, pinning the last piece of the first line of rope with the decorum on it to lift his shadowed steel to her pale face. “Is there anything else you begrudge me for that I should know about?”
It’s what drove Safrin to pin that knife wedge between them. It’s what made him step down, leave, for the betterment of Torchline supposedly. And now he has to sit here, lines drawn, choosing the Ascended and giving up the one thing he’d wanted to keep safe during the war that looms on the horizon.
Perhaps Maea’s internal conflict stirs that unrest within him, that realization that: No, he doesn’t get to keep his husband safe in the war as he had wanted to do, as Frey had offered to do. Because the Voice needed him to make a difference in the upcoming war and Maea had simply drove her own knife in between the two Ascended when the true battle still lies ahead.
He finishes the lines, working out his frustration in the form of a feathering jaw, in the way he only glances up slightly as she agrees to his suggestion of a letter. “Mhm.” He offers, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s at a loss for words.
“If I’m being honest, I’m glad you did tell me.” He admits, focusing on the lantern as he starts to piece little red plates of metal and cherry wood in little details along the paper. “Can I ask you something before you go?” And he pauses, pinning the last piece of the first line of rope with the decorum on it to lift his shadowed steel to her pale face. “Is there anything else you begrudge me for that I should know about?”
you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end
just a little bit more than you gained in the end
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.
