SUNJATA
the flood
with every breath and every intake
tip toe further away
tip toe further away
There’s something about the way Dantalion has called him a half-god (both now and in the past) that really strokes his ego. And he can’t help the shift of a smirk that blooms on his face as he guides the Ancient and fresh new leader of the Hollowed Grounds further into his brothel, toward the warmth of the fireplace and the smell of food, the promise of drinks, and the barely there hint of everything else from this spot in the House of Midnight.
At his wondering, though, Sunjata hums a soft laugh and pins Dantalion with a knowing look the second he takes a seat by the fireplace, “only the important ones.” A wink is sent his way, shrugging out of the sweater to reveal the sleeveless shirt beneath it, almost as if he’s expected that the Ancient would pick, quite literally, the hottest seat in the house. It’s easy enough, however, to take the seat beside him, his lightning scarred hand raised to gesture to the bartender to get two of his usual, a drink that luckily doesn’t take too long.
He opts for something a bit sweeter, his usual for this time of year, and they’re met with two glasses of a smokey and sweet whiskey old fashioned. “Usually I get it on the rocks, but seeing as I’m not a fan of Deepfrost, I try to indulge where I can.” He takes a sip of it, lets it burn down his throat, and turns his steel gaze back over to the Ancient from the licking flames of the fire to see what this meeting was fully about – aside from the request of helping out in the Grounds.
At his wondering, though, Sunjata hums a soft laugh and pins Dantalion with a knowing look the second he takes a seat by the fireplace, “only the important ones.” A wink is sent his way, shrugging out of the sweater to reveal the sleeveless shirt beneath it, almost as if he’s expected that the Ancient would pick, quite literally, the hottest seat in the house. It’s easy enough, however, to take the seat beside him, his lightning scarred hand raised to gesture to the bartender to get two of his usual, a drink that luckily doesn’t take too long.
He opts for something a bit sweeter, his usual for this time of year, and they’re met with two glasses of a smokey and sweet whiskey old fashioned. “Usually I get it on the rocks, but seeing as I’m not a fan of Deepfrost, I try to indulge where I can.” He takes a sip of it, lets it burn down his throat, and turns his steel gaze back over to the Ancient from the licking flames of the fire to see what this meeting was fully about – aside from the request of helping out in the Grounds.
further away from this mistake
i'm no savior, i'm no saint
i'm no savior, i'm no saint
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.
