Search found 1 match for Roshan

Children of the Moon Role-Play

Rhiannon waited for the awkward family to finish their mixed reactions before lying down in the middle of the fading room of the temple, his satchel moved to the side upon the floor. He rests his head on one of the large pillows and looks up at the night sky with a sense of peace in his heart. Sadly, scenes like he had just witnessed are all too common...so, although his heart aches for the stranger now faded, he is all too accustomed to it and shrugs the thoughts and memories of it aside.

Although the sky is peaceful, it seems...it seems even more sweet than usual. The general feelings in his heart, the feelings of the moon and stars...they seem more intense. It's wonderful. Soon, the stranger will feel these things, hear the moon's senses as they all do. When she does, all sadness of those that hurt her will fade, just as she has. Rhiannon is sure of this and for that reason, he is happy for her.

"Rhiannon...?" The familiar voice breaks his concentration upon the night sky. He doesn't move, but his gaze shifts to that of the Sun Priest, Priest Bronson. He looks very sad where he stands awkwardly above him, but he doesn't look as sad as he used to a year ago when these things happened. Still, he had heard her call him uncle...why is he not more saddened by the lose of a family member? The question is stilled in his throat before he can ask it as the man speaks more.

"My niece..." Priest Bronson says, "faded today. I am writing a Wish Scroll and I..."

The hesitation in his voice speaks volumes. Priest Bronson is not a man of hesitation; he acts and he acts confidently. He is a clever, quick-thinking man with a wisdom of his age that holds little room for regrets in his living. Rhiannon has known him to be one of the few men to understand a person of Noe as deeply as he does, despite his non-faded Sol heritage. It comes with being a Priest, one could suppose. After all, they do experience much with all of the fading that goes around them...

Rhiannon's eyes are closed again. He has yet to speak, as he doesn't feel it appropriate. He can tell that the Priest is not finished speaking. Instead, he takes in the moon's light with a deep breath and waits for the question that he know will come. Even if not written by one, a Wish Scroll is always, always delivered by a Rune Writer. There are many reasons for this, one of which is that usually, a newly faded person cannot read the runes. Of course, it's also tradition...and lastly, there is a ceremony that is performed only by a Rune Writer after it is delivered.

Wish Scrolls aren't always used...a fact that makes Rhiannon happy. He's very picky about how they are written and what they say--and not just because of his profession. When a loved one Fades, their family often embarks on a small journey to have a wish scroll made, literature written in Moon runes to wish them with many dreams and hopes, as well as a small farewell. The message within usually varies, but the general concept is always the same. Rhiannon's hope, when writing the Wish Scrolls, is to write them himself, if he is granted permission. This way, the message isn't pitying or condescending in tone, as so many are when they are written by the family.

However, Rhiannon isn't worried about this Wish Scroll; there is no need to expect pity or condescending tones from the Sun Priest. He is a good man and he knows better. He's been exposed to the fade and to Rune Writers and Moon Priests for so long... With a sigh, the question finally comes:

Priest Bronson asks, "Will you deliver it to her? I know we keep delaying your stay here..."

His voice fades off sadly and finally, Rhiannon smiles at the older man, his eyes opening with their brilliant blue to shine back at him from the moon's rays, just as his hair has shined this whole time beneath it. "Of course, I will give it to her. Take your time...write your scroll. I will be here when you're finished; there is no rush."

As the Sun Priest thanked him sincerely, a small tear starting to form in a single eye, Rhiannon's eyes closed once more so that he can rest under the moon's warmth and feel the joys of the night within the room he had not seen in a full year. He's a year older and he's so different than he used to be. Regardless, the Sun Priest walks away, his mind on thoughts of what he will write while Rhiannon's thoughts meander to his past. Both continue about their lives so normally, entirely ignorant of the very darkness that has risen on this night.

#Roshan

Roshan rises up from the ceremonial floor, his body aflame briefly before it swiftly burns out, as if the very strongest of winds snuffed it out. The room had been violent, the floor shaking and loud, searing embers had enveloped the room before he awoke here. Looking down at his hands before him, flexing his newborn fingers and turning his hands this way and that, he analyzes himself carefully. He doesn't look up before he speaks, but he knows there is someone in the room. There must always be a priest to perform the ritual--else he would not be here.

"Mirror." Roshan demands.

His skin is pale--so pale...but he knew this would happen. It is draining to grow a physical form here. His skin will become dark again, in time. His hair has fallen to either side of his face while he was inspecting his big hands...his hair faded from it, as well. Excellent. All the better to blend in more appropriately. His eyes jerk up at movement, finally standing up all the way, his naked form now being clothed by someone from behind as the man before him in a yellow and gold robe hands him a mirror.

"Y-your eyes..." The man dared to say with uncertainty.

Looking at his reflection, he doesn't understand what the priest's problem is...that is, until he looks deeply back into the man's eyes and sees just how different they are. With a slight tilt in his head to the side, he ponders on the difference until realization kicks in. With a small smile, he nods head with satisfaction. Of course. Yes.

Roshan says, "Where I am, it is very bright. My irises need to be smaller there, to adjust. Now that I am in this place, all things are darker and my eyes simply aren't used to it. So they have expanded as much as needed so that I may see properly. Do you understand?"

"Oh! Yes!" The man says, smiling nervously back, "Of course! How silly of me, I didn't think--um, the robe seems a bit big...I think that we assumed...I-I mean, last time you were--well, we shouldn't have assumed that, it's just that your body was--"

Roshan, somewhat bored, starts to touch his face while the nervous man rambles, barely mastering his own language while Roshan simply plays with his eyebrows, his hair, his lips...He can feel. What a world! He watches himself smile in the little mirror before him, but it looks strange. This body will do. It's hardly what he expected, but as the Priest says--he was a very built human and far larger last time than he is this time.

"It's fine," Roshan says, wrapping the large robe about him finally, closing up his bare body. All of your temple robes are bright colored...I want something...black. Won't you get that for me in the proper size, instead?"

The Priest smiles, "Of course, Solia--"

"Roshan."

"Ro-Roshan!?" The man is shocked, almost screaming out the name, "It isn't your turn! It's--!"

Looking over at the man, walking up to him with a slow and steady stride, he shuts the human up with a simple, emotionless stare. He doesn't need to glare or speak...because most mortals know what he will do if they cross him. With a small smile of satisfaction when the man falls silent, he looks about the room and inspects all of the priests about him, as well as the small temple where he was born.

There are so many things! This is going to be fun. Roshan starts to laugh, his hands outstretched widely as he takes in the room one detail at a time with roaming eyes while listening to his deep voice echo throughout the ceremonial chamber with an inner peace like no other. It's so good to be alive! He wants to feel, see, touch, hear...taste!

"Food." Roshan says.

The other priests being to scatter as the man who had been speaking to him since his birth crosses his arms over his chest and looks upon him with confusion. Ah, yes. Confusion is always followed with questions. Humans are always asking so many questions...it can get annoying after a while. Luckily, things are only getting started, so he'll let the man ask. For now.

"W-why are you here? We knew we needed to--to perform the rite...but why are you needed? Our people are as strong as ever--"

Ronan interrupts nonchalantly as he begins to walk about the room shakily, struggling to get used to his body and his strength. "Because the proverbial torch has been passed."

This certainly won't answer the priest's question, instead providing a bit of a riddle as a response. As expected, confusion takes over his expression even further, but he doesn't ask. Smart human. Roshan wouldn't have answered him, even if he had.