temporary fleeting thrills, keep me bruised and make me ill
my skin has lavender tones
my skin has lavender tones
It feels childish to have this back and forth of maybe I will followed by a maybe you should sort of argument, so Sunjata’s content to let it die where it lays because the bigger wound is freshly open and through the frustration and hurt Bart’s words dig up, Sunjata finds himself swimming through the blood of the memories to try and piece it together opposite of how Lusea’s had gone. “I fought until the refuge was built. And then it was my job to take care of it. I was imprisoned in Stormbreak for fuck’s sake.” He snaps, only to take a step back and scoff when the mention of Frey arrives. “The only way Nate could have stayed was if the Voice allowed him to. Frey gave me the chance to save him, but it was the Voice that ultimately didn’t.” And perhaps saved her children in the sense that they could remain as they were or turn to the Ancients. As Isla had done.
He'd be lying if he didn’t try to imagine what it might be like if Nate were still here, becoming an Ancient. What kind of shift he might have, what kind of horns and tail he might bear. But it’s all pointless imagining at the end of the day.
As for his infamy, using it for good? Whether his reputation remained tarnished as much as he believed it were from before the war, what good would it have done? His lips part again before Bart’s voice pitches (just like Nate’s used to) and snaps at him (just like Nate’s used to) and Sunjata can’t quite keep his temper from rising further.
It isn’t Bart’s fault either. Simply the combination of everything burns and pains him more than he’s shown recently. And it brings him closer to the twin of his late husband, reaching for that jacket of Nate’s from that other world, gripping it with a tug that has a surprising amount of care within it even as his shoulders start to darken with dragon scales. “I made him a lantern. Our house still stands in King’s End, I still take care of it.” He pauses, taking as deep a breath as he can manage. “I don’t know where to put one when we lived all over Caido.” He grits out.
He'd be lying if he didn’t try to imagine what it might be like if Nate were still here, becoming an Ancient. What kind of shift he might have, what kind of horns and tail he might bear. But it’s all pointless imagining at the end of the day.
As for his infamy, using it for good? Whether his reputation remained tarnished as much as he believed it were from before the war, what good would it have done? His lips part again before Bart’s voice pitches (just like Nate’s used to) and snaps at him (just like Nate’s used to) and Sunjata can’t quite keep his temper from rising further.
It isn’t Bart’s fault either. Simply the combination of everything burns and pains him more than he’s shown recently. And it brings him closer to the twin of his late husband, reaching for that jacket of Nate’s from that other world, gripping it with a tug that has a surprising amount of care within it even as his shoulders start to darken with dragon scales. “I made him a lantern. Our house still stands in King’s End, I still take care of it.” He pauses, taking as deep a breath as he can manage. “I don’t know where to put one when we lived all over Caido.” He grits out.
the flood
tell me i'm a loaded gun, tie me up and come undone
i can cover it up, i can cover it up
i can cover it up, i can cover it up
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.
