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
A low hum of agreement slips from Sunjata’s lips at her admission, a slight nod offered. Even with them being in Torchline for a time, Sunjata and Nate hadn’t often ventured outside during LongNight without a good enough reason. “After LongNight.” He agrees, offering her a lopsided smile with the way the scar tugs up. One that twists to a soft laugh as she says he’d likely pull a muscle.
It would be his luck.
He scans the book cover before asking her if it’s her favorite, flipping it open to the first page as he scans the title. His lips part to say something right when he notices the tension in the air and his gaze shoots up to the window, too, and as Isla’s hand touches his shoulder, the skin beneath it starts to change with his interlocking plates of his dragon shift, covering his chest and arms and up his neck. “He did.” Some creature like a banshee but not, evidently, certainly one Sunjata didn’t want to take chances with.
The book is set down and he stands to go and draw the curtains over the window in the loft, pulling them tight to block any viewing from outside, as if it were a LongNight monster and this was just a few years ago. When he’s satisfied with the covering, he turns back toward the bed, trying to soothe his thundering heartbeat beneath the jagged, scarred plates of his dragon partial shift. “There. Just like all those LongNight traditions, we’ll just keep the curtains closed.”
It would be his luck.
He scans the book cover before asking her if it’s her favorite, flipping it open to the first page as he scans the title. His lips part to say something right when he notices the tension in the air and his gaze shoots up to the window, too, and as Isla’s hand touches his shoulder, the skin beneath it starts to change with his interlocking plates of his dragon shift, covering his chest and arms and up his neck. “He did.” Some creature like a banshee but not, evidently, certainly one Sunjata didn’t want to take chances with.
The book is set down and he stands to go and draw the curtains over the window in the loft, pulling them tight to block any viewing from outside, as if it were a LongNight monster and this was just a few years ago. When he’s satisfied with the covering, he turns back toward the bed, trying to soothe his thundering heartbeat beneath the jagged, scarred plates of his dragon partial shift. “There. Just like all those LongNight traditions, we’ll just keep the curtains closed.”
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.
