SUNJATA
the flood
He doesn’t notice Saiden at first – too engrossed in ensuring he can count all the stars in the sky. He can’t, but he tries anyway – reluctantly pulling his attention away from them to glance toward the cook as he approaches. It’s then that he realizes he’s not wearing a shirt, glancing down to a bare tattooed chest and pale streaks of the lightning scars that span his torso, as well as the still healing wound to his stomach.
His gaze flickers over the Hali once more before returning to the stars. “She’s not here.” He rumbles by his own greeting, reaching over to grab a purple flower he’d set along the edge of the lighthouse to fiddle with the petals. “You’re welcome to leave your gifts with mine.” His gaze slips away from the purple flower toward the other man again, a raise of a dark brow.
His gaze flickers over the Hali once more before returning to the stars. “She’s not here.” He rumbles by his own greeting, reaching over to grab a purple flower he’d set along the edge of the lighthouse to fiddle with the petals. “You’re welcome to leave your gifts with mine.” His gaze slips away from the purple flower toward the other man again, a raise of a dark brow.
did you get out all of that angry passion?
is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?
is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?
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.
