SUNJATA
the flood
'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
It’s selfish of him to have started down this path, having nothing to offer her in return. The possessive nature only because he doesn’t trust someone else to not hurt her again in the process when it appears that’s exactly what he’s doing in turn. And suddenly, it becomes a mantra of him telling himself that he needs to let go, let her go and have fun in the brothel if she wants to have no attachments, to be the one that’s supportive and doesn’t care if she finds someone else.
But he’s selfish, because there’s a part of him that’s torn between seeing her succeed while he still feels he’s only just treading water.
His arms remain tight around her as he listens despite the tightness of her voice, imagining how to play sand darts and wondering why he hasn’t tried to play such a thing before if it required literally nothing else aside from what one can find on the beach, and it takes most of his thoughts when he hears her offer the idea of playing it sometime. “Sure,” he begins, pausing as he considers it while he still stares at the wall. “It sounds fun.” And a way to keep Cal’s memory alive, which in his sudden influx of emotions, is something that he wants to do for her.
His arms loosen around her as he pushes himself up again, brushing his hand along her cheek as he moves to step off the bed and stand, wings tucking in politely behind him even as his body rages at the way he’s pulled away from the comfortable warmth she offers.. “Might be able to make a version back at the House of Midnight?” Less fun, with dirt rather than sand.
He cracks open one of those windows that the moon shines in, rummaging around in his pants pocket at the end of the bed for his pack of cigarettes and matches, before the brief glint of orange brightens his face and is replaced by a plume of smoke, one that wafts around his face as he exhales a small cloud out into the cool sea salt night.
But he’s selfish, because there’s a part of him that’s torn between seeing her succeed while he still feels he’s only just treading water.
His arms remain tight around her as he listens despite the tightness of her voice, imagining how to play sand darts and wondering why he hasn’t tried to play such a thing before if it required literally nothing else aside from what one can find on the beach, and it takes most of his thoughts when he hears her offer the idea of playing it sometime. “Sure,” he begins, pausing as he considers it while he still stares at the wall. “It sounds fun.” And a way to keep Cal’s memory alive, which in his sudden influx of emotions, is something that he wants to do for her.
His arms loosen around her as he pushes himself up again, brushing his hand along her cheek as he moves to step off the bed and stand, wings tucking in politely behind him even as his body rages at the way he’s pulled away from the comfortable warmth she offers.. “Might be able to make a version back at the House of Midnight?” Less fun, with dirt rather than sand.
He cracks open one of those windows that the moon shines in, rummaging around in his pants pocket at the end of the bed for his pack of cigarettes and matches, before the brief glint of orange brightens his face and is replaced by a plume of smoke, one that wafts around his face as he exhales a small cloud out into the cool sea salt night.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do
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.
