Private Roleplay  a scourge in the guise of sanctity [tibet]
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Ronove. He
I’m out of my head, of my heart and my mind
Death Valley
*****
Posts: 8
Pronouns: He















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#1




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[Image: decapitated_crow__f2u__by_cantshutup-dau4e9l.png]
#b7410e

Cold had made its nest within the hallow ground of the valley, silent and patiently awaiting for winter to claim all rights to this land of gods and ghosts.

It clung to his bones, made his flesh prickle and his nose leak, the first tastes of winter and the little male curled his lip defiantly. It would not have him, like it would so many others this time around. His stock was strong, he was made of resilience incarnate.

However, with the leaving of Tatari, which Ronove didn't think he'd feel so undeniably bitter about. He hadn't seen the other since puppyhood, but still felt the need to scream traitor at him for turning tail. There were others that followed after, leaving this place more bare with each passing day, he chased and gnashed his teeth, fighting them only if they stopped and gave him the chance.

But today as the cold wind swept down from the mountains, he sat in his little rocky alcove, wind pushing through his fur as it did against the dulled golden plain. Simmering golden gaze would look up to behold another pale sky, overcast once more, a threat of early snow fall. He liked his teeth and expelled a harsh breath, standing quickly and turning on a pivot. There was one that still had to be here, right? One from the order, this one was just as dedicated as him if not more, but in a completely different way. "High Priest."  The judge spoke against the howl of the wind.

"TIBET!" A roar of a noise from such a small body, the beady eyed demon waited as if he had some power to issue commands. Judge, Jitte, those positions meant something still, but they were no greater than High Priest, it wasn't Red, White, or Yellow Rose.

But if the other did appear before him, he'd regard that dragonlike face with a wrinkle of his muzzle. "Where are our gods? Why aren't they here?" Came thoughtful questions with malicious intentions. "What's your faith say about this?" That bible you cling to, he'd lift his head and show a fang.

Faith will be mine.





The world is on fire
And you are here to stay and burn with me
A funeral pyre
And we are here to revel forevermore
« profile played by: waka »



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Tibet he/him
AWAKE O SLEEPER
Death Valley
*****
Posts: 17
Pronouns: he/him
Location [IC]: Death Valley
Rank [IC]: High Priest
Played By: Kotake















All Accounts Posts: 359
#2
(This post was last modified: October 24, 2018, 12:54:59 PM by Tibet.)

“High priest! ... TIBET!”

The hellion stirred upon his makeshift bed, a long flat boulder propped against the clouded sun. He blinked sleepily, then did so again while he waited for his fuzzy vision to clear, spreading toes as he stretched tingling front limbs. Wind disturbed his intricate pelt and kicked him that much more awake.

“Hmm...?” murmured Tibet, glancing down at the short, compact wolf addressing him so bossily. Definitely not a slave, with that demeanor. What was he again? Something important? It was becoming uncomfortably easy for the new rank heads to slip his mind with the valley so... inert, now. As asleep as he’d just been.

“Jitte,” he named Ronove, almost as a note to himself, as he recognized the beast before him. Yes, that was right. Controlled the hawks. Got it. His ears flicked back at the demands; he licked his chops with a dry red tongue.

“They lay dormant,” said Tibet of his gods. His tail waved and settled at the rock like a big orange snake. “I have not seen my Saga for some time. White has not reappeared since I first christened her. And Yellow...” Even Nhu, the constant. “I wish they would return. But I am only their messenger and cannot make demands of them.”

His voice as always was sweet, but deep beneath lay the unspoken words: neither can you.


Oh, Abraham would raise his hands
And mourn this very day
For his children left the promised land
In search of their own way

[Image: tibet_by_shakrashi-dasfydg.png]
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Ronove. He
I’m out of my head, of my heart and my mind
Death Valley
*****
Posts: 8
Pronouns: He















All Accounts Posts: 690
#3
(This post was last modified: October 28, 2018, 08:55:06 PM by Ronove..)

@Kotake




[Image: divider_by_s_k_i_e_s-da2otpp.png]


[Image: decapitated_crow__f2u__by_cantshutup-dau4e9l.png]
#b7410e

The dragonlike hellion addressed him finally, and Ronove did everything in his power to to snort derisively at the other. "Pathos, as well." He said with an earned air of superiority that wasn't going to do him any favors in a matter like this, but Ronove had never been one to not boast about what he had. His accomplishments were his own, and so he'd flaunt them.

Though that secular gaze of his would look at this creature so bound to the religion that was choking them all. The fools. His ear would flick at the Priest's answer, clearly not pleased with it as his mouth unfurled into a grimacing frown. "They lay....dormant?" He repeated as if not originally hearing what the other had said.

"Perhaps, they've lost faith in us." Brow would raise, voice attempting to be as mellow as ever, but the gears turning behind golden eyes said otherwise. He'd play at the boy's devotion to his little gods. Clowns were a dime a dozen in a place like this. "High Priest, I hope you've taken notice of our predicament?" The darkling male would press further, shuddering as a gust of wind whipped against his back.

"We're dwindling in numbers, there's nearly nothing left of this place, and our gods, slumber." There was unabashed bitterness in his voice, marked with a wrinkle of his muzzle. "They might be gone, but we aren't." They can make no more demands of me, he though so triumphantly. An number of his dangerously, experimental thoughts could run rampant now without fear of the ramifications of thereafter. He'd look squarely to Tibet then, a telling look of what would come next as he awaited the High Priest's thoughts.

We're the last ones that count, I'm all that who matters now.





The world is on fire
And you are here to stay and burn with me
A funeral pyre
And we are here to revel forevermore
« profile played by: waka »



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Offline
Tibet he/him
AWAKE O SLEEPER
Death Valley
*****
Posts: 17
Pronouns: he/him
Location [IC]: Death Valley
Rank [IC]: High Priest
Played By: Kotake















All Accounts Posts: 359
#4
(This post was last modified: November 07, 2018, 12:48:20 PM by Tibet.)

Pathos? Ah, this busy little man was important indeed.

“Beg pardon,” said the hellion with an automatic smile; he would never quite unlearn these small fawning civilities that had kept him from being mauled back in Eschaton. “You can see I only just woke up.”

Ronove had ideas, that much was obvious. Ideas that could get him into trouble, had the valley any real watchers, any punishers, any... consequence left. Tibet was older now, not a boy anymore but a young man, and with age came the loss of some measure of naïveté. Nothing this wolf was telling him had failed to occur to the priest after all this time. His sermons were sparsely attended. There were no requests for his limited medicinal abilities, for no one was fighting. The pits were sun-baked and barren. The tar was left to go hungry.

“I try,” he admitted quietly, with something in his face that indicated a hidden well of shame. “I recite my prayers. I preach to those who will listen. I don’t know...” A glance, enigmatic, to the horizon. He looked spectacularly dragonlike, braced there against the sun. “... what happened.”

Had there come some sort of damage to the cycle of these deities? How was that possible? All empires fell, and without exception, but somehow... Tibet had thought...

These weren’t mere kings or queens. They weren’t dogs playing a role. They were GODS. The Rosa was ETERNAL. They had created the skies, the seas, the mountains. They drew paths around their subjects, giving direction to their aimless wandering. They had saved him from himself, taught him to be good...

He refused to give up on them so easily. He’d taken an oath. He’d given them blood right from his own flesh. That meant something.

“What do you feel we might do while they sleep, my brother?” The question was curious and seemingly light, but Tibet was not so sure he wanted to hear the answer.


Oh, Abraham would raise his hands
And mourn this very day
For his children left the promised land
In search of their own way

[Image: tibet_by_shakrashi-dasfydg.png]
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