SUNJATA
i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind
i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
An ominous path through the grasses of Mourn, over the hills and valleys of the flowers that appear to be wilting along the path, is the first sign that the Flood notices something is off. It’s also the entire reason he ends up following it despite the awful feeling it stirs in his gut. A discomfort he isn’t entirely sure how to process, as does most of the encounters with the void creatures these days, has him devoted to ignoring everything else he’d had on his agenda today in the face of getting rid of whatever the cause of this is.
He doesn’t expect to find it so quickly, though. Following the trail to a little bundle of trees, he follows it around the bend to spot the thing he had been silently praying to Frey it wouldn’t be. A corrupted unicorn stands on the edge, grazing as though nothing were happening, its otherwise beautiful coat now soaked in an inky black, an oil sheen of shadow and void that has his heart sinking.
The Pegasus shift within him is the reason for the attachment, he thinks, when it comes to the corrupted unicorns. And he knows that it can’t be left to wander and infect more of his land. But it still doesn’t make it easy. It isn’t easy as he shifts to that large black dragon of his, already having captured the creature’s attention, ears pinning and nostrils flaring as it turns to him, a mentally exhausted croak of I’m sorry, calling out of him as his maw parts, revealing sharp teeth and the crackling static of the blue electricity from within his throat.
It doesn’t take long, not as the bolt of lightning shoots out toward the beast, afraid to get too close to it lest it try to infect him. He keeps his distance, breathing his lightning onto the smaller creature, feels the pang of sorrow bloom in his chest as he watches it try to turn and run only to have its legs seize as the electricity courses through its body. A second blast and the creature falls, no longer able to spread the void-laden despair as it once had.
The Flood shifts back, not entirely, a reflection of the protective nature of the shift remains. Dark wings tuck in against his back, scarred scales of the dragon cover his chest and neck, his hands clawed and sharp, and horns spiral out from his skull as he approaches, crouching beside the felled creature, whispering another little “I’m sorry.” As if it might make it better.
- FIN <3
He doesn’t expect to find it so quickly, though. Following the trail to a little bundle of trees, he follows it around the bend to spot the thing he had been silently praying to Frey it wouldn’t be. A corrupted unicorn stands on the edge, grazing as though nothing were happening, its otherwise beautiful coat now soaked in an inky black, an oil sheen of shadow and void that has his heart sinking.
The Pegasus shift within him is the reason for the attachment, he thinks, when it comes to the corrupted unicorns. And he knows that it can’t be left to wander and infect more of his land. But it still doesn’t make it easy. It isn’t easy as he shifts to that large black dragon of his, already having captured the creature’s attention, ears pinning and nostrils flaring as it turns to him, a mentally exhausted croak of I’m sorry, calling out of him as his maw parts, revealing sharp teeth and the crackling static of the blue electricity from within his throat.
It doesn’t take long, not as the bolt of lightning shoots out toward the beast, afraid to get too close to it lest it try to infect him. He keeps his distance, breathing his lightning onto the smaller creature, feels the pang of sorrow bloom in his chest as he watches it try to turn and run only to have its legs seize as the electricity courses through its body. A second blast and the creature falls, no longer able to spread the void-laden despair as it once had.
The Flood shifts back, not entirely, a reflection of the protective nature of the shift remains. Dark wings tuck in against his back, scarred scales of the dragon cover his chest and neck, his hands clawed and sharp, and horns spiral out from his skull as he approaches, crouching beside the felled creature, whispering another little “I’m sorry.” As if it might make it better.
- FIN <3
so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me
well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
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.
