don't you know i'm no good for you?
It’s warmth Sunjata craves – ever the furnace he is, it’s different not being able to cling to Nate. It’s different to not have it, not with the way he could wrap himself up in Nate’s arms and skin and have the Ascended essentially rebound the heat back to him, even if he hardly had any warmth to him on his own. So he sinks heavily into the chair, eyeing the way Nate strikes the match and lights his cigarette, before Sunjata’s lighting his own and taking a deep drag off of it. He’s incapable of the trick Nate can do, so he tries to relish in the length of it while it lasts.
His gaze lifts, something cracking in it at the confirmation – regardless of how much they argued over it, Sunjata had only ever meant his actions out of love. It would kill him to know he’d destroyed that. So it soothes something within him, those shattered pieces. Like sandpaper taken to the rough edges of wood. It smooths and Sunjata finds himself exhaling a plume of smoke from his nose, as he goes to flick a bit of ash into the ashtray as the kettle sings. “I love you too, Nate.” He says quietly, his voice still hoarse, his hair still dripping a small amount down the scarred side of his face.
But he wants to keep talking, wants to divulge a bit more into his curiosities and further away from his failures as the coffee is given, Sunjata blowing on it to cool it off a fraction before he takes a sip and tastes the spike as well as the sweetness, relishing in it where he can. “Can I ask what it was like? To become a demigod for the Voice?” What Nate had to endure while Sunjata was off making bargains. He’d never gotten to ask, never felt the chance to arrive to ask what Nate had done among the blunder of his own mistakes.
His gaze lifts, something cracking in it at the confirmation – regardless of how much they argued over it, Sunjata had only ever meant his actions out of love. It would kill him to know he’d destroyed that. So it soothes something within him, those shattered pieces. Like sandpaper taken to the rough edges of wood. It smooths and Sunjata finds himself exhaling a plume of smoke from his nose, as he goes to flick a bit of ash into the ashtray as the kettle sings. “I love you too, Nate.” He says quietly, his voice still hoarse, his hair still dripping a small amount down the scarred side of his face.
But he wants to keep talking, wants to divulge a bit more into his curiosities and further away from his failures as the coffee is given, Sunjata blowing on it to cool it off a fraction before he takes a sip and tastes the spike as well as the sweetness, relishing in it where he can. “Can I ask what it was like? To become a demigod for the Voice?” What Nate had to endure while Sunjata was off making bargains. He’d never gotten to ask, never felt the chance to arrive to ask what Nate had done among the blunder of his own mistakes.
i've learned to lose, you can't afford to
SUNJATA
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.
