09-06-2020, 11:43 PM
The arrival of others was enough to make Roan tense up, even if the young soothsayer knew that The Pitt was no longer under Silent's control. He had been at the meeting with his mama, and he had seen Gael as well, presenting himself as the new ardent of The Pitt. The siamese had little idea of why his relative would want the position in the first place, but he wasn't displeased about it. At least this way, he knew the place wouldn't be enacting senseless violence just for the hell of it. Gael was far too smart to see the appeal of such a thing. So, when the fox was the first to arrive on the scene, Roan found himself relaxing slightly. Gael's words only soothed him further, reassuring him that he wasn't about to be attacked on sight – or at least, if he was, there would be dire punishment for whoever incited such violence. Dipping his head go the new ardent, Roan's voice seemed to crack ever so slightly as he spoke, "Dia dhuit, Gael. It's good to see you... and thank you. I promise I'll try to keep this as brief as I can." He meant it, too. He wanted to provide Ry with comfort if his brother needed it, but besides that, he had no wish to remain within the desert territory.
The arrival of two others caused Roan to turn, his gaze landing on Jack first. The kodkod spoke of his brother as if he knew him, although he still referred to the other as simply a "pale blood." The draconic feline supposed that, on some level, Jack did know Trygve, considering this was where his brother lived the majority of the time now. It still set his teeth on edge, and he found he couldn't muster any words in response, simply jerkily nodding his head in the other's direction. If Ry really didn't want to hear him out, Roan would respect his wishes, but he had a feeling that wouldn't be the case. Trygve Roux was stubborn as all hell, but he cared for his family, even if this particular little endeavor was his way of trying to pull away from them. In comparison, Dante warranted essentially no reaction in Roan's eyes, instead causing the medic to just give a lazy flick of his tail. He had already heard about the strange mutated male intruding on Typhoon territory, so the soothsayer really didn't think he had any room to speak on any of it. Even if he probably wouldn't have thought he had a right to speak regardless of whether or not he had been splashing around in The Typhoon's waves.
Finally, Trygve arrived, and Roan felt as though all of the air had been snatched cruelly from his lungs. It wasn't even necessarily his brother's presence that caused his emotions to spill over. No, it was simply the fact that he needed to tell Ry of what had happened, while also trying to keep himself together. It was a herculean task, and Roan selfishly ignored all of the signs of Trygve's discomfort or anger with his presence. He didn't have time for petty squabbles or relatively minor family drama – their brother was dead, and there was no getting around that. After taking a painful breath inward, Roan managed to force his voice above a whisper, "Ry... I came to tell you that... that Jaime is dead. He passed away a few days ago." The words left him in a rush, leaving stinging burns where they had scraped against the corners of his mouth. Once he had gotten over the initial hump, it was slightly easier to continue, "Mutations... they ate him from the inside out. It was too much for his body to take, and there was nothing anyone could have done. We found him near the shore, and it was already too late." Roan had to convince himself that there was nothing that could've been done to make it better. Because if there had been, then he would spend eternity blaming himself for not doing it.
The arrival of two others caused Roan to turn, his gaze landing on Jack first. The kodkod spoke of his brother as if he knew him, although he still referred to the other as simply a "pale blood." The draconic feline supposed that, on some level, Jack did know Trygve, considering this was where his brother lived the majority of the time now. It still set his teeth on edge, and he found he couldn't muster any words in response, simply jerkily nodding his head in the other's direction. If Ry really didn't want to hear him out, Roan would respect his wishes, but he had a feeling that wouldn't be the case. Trygve Roux was stubborn as all hell, but he cared for his family, even if this particular little endeavor was his way of trying to pull away from them. In comparison, Dante warranted essentially no reaction in Roan's eyes, instead causing the medic to just give a lazy flick of his tail. He had already heard about the strange mutated male intruding on Typhoon territory, so the soothsayer really didn't think he had any room to speak on any of it. Even if he probably wouldn't have thought he had a right to speak regardless of whether or not he had been splashing around in The Typhoon's waves.
Finally, Trygve arrived, and Roan felt as though all of the air had been snatched cruelly from his lungs. It wasn't even necessarily his brother's presence that caused his emotions to spill over. No, it was simply the fact that he needed to tell Ry of what had happened, while also trying to keep himself together. It was a herculean task, and Roan selfishly ignored all of the signs of Trygve's discomfort or anger with his presence. He didn't have time for petty squabbles or relatively minor family drama – their brother was dead, and there was no getting around that. After taking a painful breath inward, Roan managed to force his voice above a whisper, "Ry... I came to tell you that... that Jaime is dead. He passed away a few days ago." The words left him in a rush, leaving stinging burns where they had scraped against the corners of his mouth. Once he had gotten over the initial hump, it was slightly easier to continue, "Mutations... they ate him from the inside out. It was too much for his body to take, and there was nothing anyone could have done. We found him near the shore, and it was already too late." Roan had to convince himself that there was nothing that could've been done to make it better. Because if there had been, then he would spend eternity blaming himself for not doing it.
ROAN Ó FOALÁIN-ROUX - THE TYPHOON - SOOTHSAYER
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