On days like these, it was most random to see strangers out at the shrine. She had finished brushing the leaves alongside the floor of the temple to the side, and had inhaled the scent of the autumn air mingled with the fresh lighted candles. Simple things, such as a different scent during the day the dead was to be remembered. There's been a funeral earlier and she had caught the tail end of it early when the sun rose, where a brilliant orange hue had fallen over the solemn expressions of those dearly gathered. She was a common woman, but dutiful, often bringing flowers out for the dead, making wreathes to lay at gravestones, and the candles, during winter, it could be the difference between a haunted peak or a gently lulling river bend.
Today, there was a life among the trees.
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Gently clasped hands raised towards the chest, fisted together in a somewhat strict and surprisingly stiff but formal gesture. His eyes were shut in ritual, lips moving softly as he chanted. Unlike most priests, there were no prayer beads looped around his fingers or hands, just a single necklace resting below collarline. He did not want anyone to see him like this, because he knew they'd ask questions. They'd wonder what he was doing, for instance, with that look on his face like he'd just been to a funeral, even though he had. He just didn't tell anyone. There were sides to everyone that was not something he wanted others to know about and this was one of them. On the simple shrine before him was a stone structure. He only raised his eyes to look at it when he was sure that he'd gone through all the words he could think of muttering out that he could think would be a suitable prayer.
Then he stood up and reached into his travelling sack, propped beside a rock in which he would then gather the items. Two cups of rice wine, some berries still with vines clinging to it, and a small plate with a simple piece of cake. He knew his grandmother would have liked that flavor best, strawberries, but he didn't go overboard, knowing that the birds would feast upon the offerings before it went to the dead if he did.
"We're doing pretty well," he said finally, as if in simple conversation. He soon sat crosslegged upon the grass in a casual manner, no longer praying. "Some of the kids have found their long lost parents, and all. The staff gave them a little birthday party. Should've seen the look of surprise on their faces-- but with the donations gathered a few days before... It wasn't too much of a big deal." As he spoke, he picked up a glass of rice wine and poured it over the grave stone, offering it. "Here. It can't be too nice stuck in the ground without anything to drink, and don't look at me, it wasn't like I could waste a good cup of tea here. Something about it not being the right thing to bring." He raised a hand and brushed back some of the locks over his face with a sigh. Then he paused and his gaze narrowed at the gravestone, as if it could look back at him. "What is it?"
The sound of hoofs walking across the grass disturbed the clearing. A person was travelling consistently down the path, heavily hooded for the moment, with the reins upon the horse as it and the figure perched upon carefully darted around gravestones. Gentle, barely touching the ground and light as a feather. Arc's eyes widened and he stood up from the ground, holding the now empty cup of rice wine behind his back. He recognized this person. There was only one elf in all of Cordor who could sneak up on a funeral conversation with horse in stride.
"Alois?" he asked.
The person reached over and pulled off the hood from his expression, cloaked in a bit of shadow but unable to hide the gentle smile from his lips, soft as the snow shaded complexion of his face. Despite that, his locks were silken, falling to the sides of his shoulders elegantly like a majestic cloak. "There you are, Arc," he said. "Is this where you'd run off to?" He reached out and tugged on his reigns, stilling the horse in a somewhat firm gesture and hushing at it like it were a newborn mare. The somewhat unassuming man seemed undisturbed by the tension that appeared over them. He finally slid off the horse, and stood stock still to face the man who now raised their eyes to meet him.
"Thought that maybe you were still asleep," Arc said. "Hope you didn't have too much of a hard time getting here, but why are you here?" At that, he turned back to quickly start to pack up some of the things on the ground, utensils, items that the dead couldn't use anymore, cursing with a hiss when he dropped a pastry fork. As in the usual fashion, his voice filled the air, because heavens knew it wasn't going to be Alois who explained himself. "I mean, it's pretty far away back from the city. There's tons of streams to cross and a maze." As he pulled the strap shut from his bag, he avoided looking at the other.
Alois smiled, and walked over to him, reaching over to help him tie the knot in the bag. "I won't tell anyone," he said finally. "Do you really want to head back on your own without a ride?" Then he stepped back and extended his hand, raising it elegantly. His musician's fingers were facing upward, inviting in that quiet way.
"Come back home. Julius is going to worry about us again."
The past he never tells
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roleplaysbyjake
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The past he never tells
Last edited by roleplaysbyjake on Sun Mar 07, 2021 8:38 am, edited 1 time in total.
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roleplaysbyjake
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Tue Jun 12, 2018 4:49 pm
Re: The past he never tells
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When one never knows what heaven can be until you lose it.
When one never knows what heaven can be until you lose it.
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roleplaysbyjake
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Tue Jun 12, 2018 4:49 pm
Re: The past he never tells
Julius Gwendolyn's poem
-----------------------------------------------------
It is when
the thought of you
leaving, and leaving me
breathless.
When I can picture you -
and your piercing gaze,
as your hands touch,
my broken pieces.
Deep in the night, I thought
I felt that I was broken into,
that all my walls lay stripped
bare, the raw emotions that you stir
inside me.
Dragging out how badly I want
this pain. Making me remember
how to submit.
-----------------------------------------------------
It is when
the thought of you
leaving, and leaving me
breathless.
When I can picture you -
and your piercing gaze,
as your hands touch,
my broken pieces.
Deep in the night, I thought
I felt that I was broken into,
that all my walls lay stripped
bare, the raw emotions that you stir
inside me.
Dragging out how badly I want
this pain. Making me remember
how to submit.
-
roleplaysbyjake
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Tue Jun 12, 2018 4:49 pm
Re: The past he never tells
He walked past the steps casually. From the way he moved down to the spring in his step, there was no hiding the way he felt. Alois had sensed the moment and had left him at the door of the orphanage, and grinning that cheshire ease, he rounded each corner and hopped up each steps, two at a time, humming to himself. He paused to see one particular door left open, hanging slightly ajar. He heard muffled voices on the inside and steeled himself. A hushed discussion was going on inside, the sound of John and Timmy who was surprisingly quiet for once. Ara recalled how those two liked to fistfight each other over simple things like candy or even girls and realized that something was happening. He peered in past the doorway.
Julius was in the middle of the room, with a hammer and one nail propped between his thumb and finger as he seemed to attempt to setup a Christmas wreathe while balanced on top of a stool. John and Timmy were standing right in front of each other, their two little figures tense as they stood playing rock, paper, scissors. All the Christmas ornaments had been set up for the most part, except for the star. Ara had no idea truly what Christmas was. It was a tale that one of the orphanage manager had told the kids about, while travelling back from the Astral Planes one day, and proclaiming to anyone who listened that it was what would save the world. Since then, it'd been a longstanding tradition here.
But the light hit Julius's face just right then, and Ara could not help it. He stared. Ara knew that elves could be unusually pretty, and the other's smooth face was crowned by long copper locks, glinting with it's shine that faded softly, and misted away the lower the curls reached. It was tied up in a loose ponytail, where his ears would stand out, gilded at the tip with a metal plating. It was the holidays, and Julius never held back in showing off his extravagant heritage, as if old habits died rather hard. It was hard to see that the person's face, so concentrated and focused on hanging up the mossy textured wreathe had been so cold just a year ago when he'd arrived. But what stood out were their lips, fuller than any girl's he'd ever known, sharp at the edges, pointed as the color of his flesh seemed to stand out, a slightly darker hue of pink. He remembered when he'd tried to check twice to see if the man wore any cosmetics to enhance it once, when they were even younger. But it was his dark eyes, the color of ashen trees in the shadows, where the light barely penetrated even in the morning. It was dark and many times, widened in an unnaturally soft manner, framed by lashes that cast shadows over cheekbones. Julius often did not get much sleep so there were slight signs of dark circles under his eyes, where he'd had nightmares at night about losing his family.
He'd remembered once when the other was stick with a fever, that he'd stayed by their side, holding their hand and trying to talk the morbid silence in the room away, regaling the other with gossip and sometimes reading books that didn't make any sense to him to make them feel better. It were days like these where the other was even paler, and colder. Their frame was still lithe and wiry enough to fit into Ara's arms.
Just then, a cat darted into the room, and Tom ran after it, crying out. "No, Luna -- don't go in there!"
Unfortunately, it was almost too late. Julius had just finished hammering the nail into the wreathe, when the cat, out of fright, literally climbed up the back of his pant legs and tried to crawl under his shirt to get away from Tom.
Ara didn't wait to react. He was already in the room, and with lightning quick reflexes, he dodged the hammer that fell out of Julius's grasp and caught the falling elf square in his arms, as the fall literally ended up with him being flattened.
Time stopped in that moment, and Ara literally couldn't breathe, the wind having been knocked out of him as both their bodies collided into the floor. He hugged on to the other tightly, keeping them pinned to him even though Julius was already attempting to get up and check the other for injuries. John and Timmy had both stopped fighting, long enough to run over as well, peering down at them with identical gawking expressions. One look at Julius's face, and he saw Luna perched on top of both of them, tilting her head quizzically at the silly humans who were just upright but a few minutes ago.
"Are you all right -- ?" Julius blurted out, slowly moved to shove the cat off of him, and keep them gingerly at arms distance. Luna, to her credit, seemed too confused to move and slid a bit along the wooden floors.
Ara couldn't help it. He laughed. Even breathing in the scent of the other's hair this way was magical. But he wouldn't tell them that. "Got back just in time... Didn't I say I would?"
Julius was in the middle of the room, with a hammer and one nail propped between his thumb and finger as he seemed to attempt to setup a Christmas wreathe while balanced on top of a stool. John and Timmy were standing right in front of each other, their two little figures tense as they stood playing rock, paper, scissors. All the Christmas ornaments had been set up for the most part, except for the star. Ara had no idea truly what Christmas was. It was a tale that one of the orphanage manager had told the kids about, while travelling back from the Astral Planes one day, and proclaiming to anyone who listened that it was what would save the world. Since then, it'd been a longstanding tradition here.
But the light hit Julius's face just right then, and Ara could not help it. He stared. Ara knew that elves could be unusually pretty, and the other's smooth face was crowned by long copper locks, glinting with it's shine that faded softly, and misted away the lower the curls reached. It was tied up in a loose ponytail, where his ears would stand out, gilded at the tip with a metal plating. It was the holidays, and Julius never held back in showing off his extravagant heritage, as if old habits died rather hard. It was hard to see that the person's face, so concentrated and focused on hanging up the mossy textured wreathe had been so cold just a year ago when he'd arrived. But what stood out were their lips, fuller than any girl's he'd ever known, sharp at the edges, pointed as the color of his flesh seemed to stand out, a slightly darker hue of pink. He remembered when he'd tried to check twice to see if the man wore any cosmetics to enhance it once, when they were even younger. But it was his dark eyes, the color of ashen trees in the shadows, where the light barely penetrated even in the morning. It was dark and many times, widened in an unnaturally soft manner, framed by lashes that cast shadows over cheekbones. Julius often did not get much sleep so there were slight signs of dark circles under his eyes, where he'd had nightmares at night about losing his family.
He'd remembered once when the other was stick with a fever, that he'd stayed by their side, holding their hand and trying to talk the morbid silence in the room away, regaling the other with gossip and sometimes reading books that didn't make any sense to him to make them feel better. It were days like these where the other was even paler, and colder. Their frame was still lithe and wiry enough to fit into Ara's arms.
Just then, a cat darted into the room, and Tom ran after it, crying out. "No, Luna -- don't go in there!"
Unfortunately, it was almost too late. Julius had just finished hammering the nail into the wreathe, when the cat, out of fright, literally climbed up the back of his pant legs and tried to crawl under his shirt to get away from Tom.
Ara didn't wait to react. He was already in the room, and with lightning quick reflexes, he dodged the hammer that fell out of Julius's grasp and caught the falling elf square in his arms, as the fall literally ended up with him being flattened.
Time stopped in that moment, and Ara literally couldn't breathe, the wind having been knocked out of him as both their bodies collided into the floor. He hugged on to the other tightly, keeping them pinned to him even though Julius was already attempting to get up and check the other for injuries. John and Timmy had both stopped fighting, long enough to run over as well, peering down at them with identical gawking expressions. One look at Julius's face, and he saw Luna perched on top of both of them, tilting her head quizzically at the silly humans who were just upright but a few minutes ago.
"Are you all right -- ?" Julius blurted out, slowly moved to shove the cat off of him, and keep them gingerly at arms distance. Luna, to her credit, seemed too confused to move and slid a bit along the wooden floors.
Ara couldn't help it. He laughed. Even breathing in the scent of the other's hair this way was magical. But he wouldn't tell them that. "Got back just in time... Didn't I say I would?"
Last edited by roleplaysbyjake on Mon Mar 29, 2021 5:51 am, edited 1 time in total.
