04-02-2021, 01:03 AM
[table][tr][td][/td][td][/td][td][/td][td][/td][/tr][/table]
Roan had never attempted the Jungle Juice ritual before, nor did he have any intention of doing so in the future. He fully respected it as a tradition that The Typhoon had done for generations, but he didn't really see the point. Others had already outright stated that he was a valued crewmate of The Typhoon same as anyone else, and had earned that title through more than just birthright. So, he didn't really have any desire to head out to Haven Island and consume the Jungle Juice that he so often brewed for others. He knew that it would probably bring him nothing but more grief, in the end. Some had claimed that they had seen their greatest desires come true, rather than their greatest fears, but... he couldn't help doubting them. It seemed like every time he saw someone return after taking the Jungle Juice, they always had a certain shadow to their gaze. Like they had seen something they had never been meant to see. That particular feeling had always lingered within the medic's mind, ever since he had been forced to patch up his mama. She had returned from her own Jungle Juice "adventure" battered and bruised, bleeding out and nearly giving him a heart attack.
He hadn't really trusted it, since then.
This meant that, naturally, when Roan heard that some of the Jungle Juice was needed for Keona, he had been put on edge. He didn't have the closest relationship in the world to his half-sister, but it was undeniable that they were connected. They were two sides of the same coin, in a way. One dedicating his life to medicine, and one dedicating her life to stealth, and social activities – as amusing as that was to think about. While Roan was antisocial by choice, and only interacted with others in certain circumstances, Keona was simply a bit shy, but went out of her way to interact with others when needed. There was a stark difference between the two of them, but that didn't make them any less siblings, and the soothsayer had always remembered that. Still... it wasn't as if he was going to prevent Keo from going. She had a right to take on the ritual if she wanted, and his job was merely to make sure that the Jungle Juice was prepared. It was because of this that he had nodded sharply in the direction of the NPC that had asked him for some, heading to the back to grab a bottle. As he did so, he couldn't help but notice the faint shaking in his paws, his jaw clenching in response.
The hours after that were... unpleasant, to say the least. Sleep had never been something that came easily to Roan, but that was especially true on the night of Keona's trial. The sound of each wave crashing against the shore made the medic's ears pull back, his heart beating unnecessarily fast. He chided himself for feeling so nervous, when so many had come back from the ritual unharmed. Still... all he could think about was his mama. Bleeding and gasping, wound up and terrified from what she had seen on Haven Island. He could remember rushing forward, young paws trembling as he was forced to patch up her wounds. It had been a traumatic experience for the young Roux, and he tried his best not to think about it. Yet, it lingered in his mind as the hours dragged on, until eventually he was able to pass into some semblance of sleep. It wasn't really restful, or even peaceful for that matter, considering the way his body jerked and twisted, face contorted with anxiety. It was still sleep, however.
By the time the morning came, Roan's anxiety had reached a peak. Yet still, he kept a neutral expression on his face, blue gaze scanning over patients as he checked on them in the morning. The moment that bandages were changed and injuries were cleared, however, he headed for the shore. He wasn't even sure what he intended to say to Keona when she got back. Perhaps a congratulations? That seemed right... if she had gotten through the ritual, that is. He hated that thought more than anything, and yet still it lingered on his mind as he stepped down, into the sand. His dark ears were perked, as if simply waiting for the moment that he would hear Natyli shouting his name, or frantic calls from others. Images of Keona in the same state as his mama flashed in his mind, forcing him to stop and close his eyes. As he did so, he muttered lowly, his tone hard, "Stop." He had been dealing with enough lately. He didn't need his mind to start making up worst case scenarios. With that, he took another deep breath inward before opening his eyes once more, and stepping onto the dock.
His usually cold azure gaze cut through the crowd that was bustling on the docks, searching around for the small form that he knew so well. Eventually, he managed to pinpoint her scent, rushing towards the tiny boat that had docked at the end of the wooden structure. When he arrived, however, he didn't find his sister. Or rather, he didn't find her in the state that he was used to. Instead, a large – well, relatively small, actually, but large to him – wolf was stepping off of the ride, bearing Keona's scent. For a moment, Roan's mind ran wild with possibilities, his gaze flicking over the canine's chest, searching for some sign of blood. Had they... eaten Keona, and now intended to attack the rest of them? It was a ridiculous possibility, but the thought of his sister shape-shifting was similarly foreign. She had never done so before to his knowledge, and he hadn't even been aware she had the ability to. Still... he found himself questioning, slightly breathless, "...Keona? Is that you?"
Roan's own experiences with shape-shifting were... strained, admittedly. He had only done so twice, and neither time had actually been voluntary. The first time had been after he dreamed about Musicbox's memories. The upsetting nightmares had twisted and torn at his birth form, turning him from a cream colored draconic siamese to a zombified blue tabby, barely held together by crisscrossing threads. He had been desperate to escape from that form in the aftermath, hating the way that it didn't make him feel like himself. Not to mention the way that it had smelled of rot, something that was especially off-putting for a medic.
The second time he had shape-shifted had been when he was kidnapped, and taken to The Iron Forged. His battle with Kliment had been a short-lived one, and he had felt rather resigned to his fate by the time they had reached the other's destination. He still wasn't willing to die, however. That desire to live had been what had pushed him to transform when his mama had hosted a raid on the enemy group, his form shifting and lengthening. He could still remember the shock he had felt as he had shifted into the eastern dragon, taking to the sky and carrying another along home, with him. When he had finally been reunited with his home, he hadn't felt quite the same strong despise for the new form as he had with the blue tabby one. Unfortunately, it still hadn't felt like him, and he had similarly been eager to shift back into his old self.
With both of those experiences in mind, Roan was fairly sure that this shift hadn't been an intentional one, either. Keona had never shown any inclination to leave her birth body, and considering how stressful the Jungle Juice ritual could be... it was natural that a new power may have manifested itself. After several seconds of just looking his sister's new form over in awe and confusion, the soothsayer finally spoke once more, wings shifting against his spine, "This is certainly... new. It's not bad, though. I have to imagine it's odd for you, though." Keona relied on her other senses for pretty much everything, and to have them all be just a bit off... it would probably be stressful. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long for her to adapt, considering he didn't want to have her checking into the temple because she had walked into a wall.
Even with the large amount of surprise occupying his mind, Roan couldn't help feeling... proud. Proud, and so, so relieved that Keona was alright. That she hadn't suffered any injuries at the hands of the demons that seemed to inhabit Haven Island. It was because of this that the siamese allowed himself to show a rare spot of emotion, his gaze softening and a soft smile pulling at his muzzle. After a moment, he stepped forward to press his side lightly against Keona's, muttering, "Congratulations, by the way... how did the ritual go?" He didn't expect her to go into detail, really. Many didn't, instead preferring to keep their experiences solely in their own minds. However, he really just wanted to make sure that she was okay, and there weren't any injuries hiding away – physical or otherwise – that he hadn't picked up on.
[align=right][sup][sup]template © tikki[/sup][/sup]He hadn't really trusted it, since then.
This meant that, naturally, when Roan heard that some of the Jungle Juice was needed for Keona, he had been put on edge. He didn't have the closest relationship in the world to his half-sister, but it was undeniable that they were connected. They were two sides of the same coin, in a way. One dedicating his life to medicine, and one dedicating her life to stealth, and social activities – as amusing as that was to think about. While Roan was antisocial by choice, and only interacted with others in certain circumstances, Keona was simply a bit shy, but went out of her way to interact with others when needed. There was a stark difference between the two of them, but that didn't make them any less siblings, and the soothsayer had always remembered that. Still... it wasn't as if he was going to prevent Keo from going. She had a right to take on the ritual if she wanted, and his job was merely to make sure that the Jungle Juice was prepared. It was because of this that he had nodded sharply in the direction of the NPC that had asked him for some, heading to the back to grab a bottle. As he did so, he couldn't help but notice the faint shaking in his paws, his jaw clenching in response.
The hours after that were... unpleasant, to say the least. Sleep had never been something that came easily to Roan, but that was especially true on the night of Keona's trial. The sound of each wave crashing against the shore made the medic's ears pull back, his heart beating unnecessarily fast. He chided himself for feeling so nervous, when so many had come back from the ritual unharmed. Still... all he could think about was his mama. Bleeding and gasping, wound up and terrified from what she had seen on Haven Island. He could remember rushing forward, young paws trembling as he was forced to patch up her wounds. It had been a traumatic experience for the young Roux, and he tried his best not to think about it. Yet, it lingered in his mind as the hours dragged on, until eventually he was able to pass into some semblance of sleep. It wasn't really restful, or even peaceful for that matter, considering the way his body jerked and twisted, face contorted with anxiety. It was still sleep, however.
By the time the morning came, Roan's anxiety had reached a peak. Yet still, he kept a neutral expression on his face, blue gaze scanning over patients as he checked on them in the morning. The moment that bandages were changed and injuries were cleared, however, he headed for the shore. He wasn't even sure what he intended to say to Keona when she got back. Perhaps a congratulations? That seemed right... if she had gotten through the ritual, that is. He hated that thought more than anything, and yet still it lingered on his mind as he stepped down, into the sand. His dark ears were perked, as if simply waiting for the moment that he would hear Natyli shouting his name, or frantic calls from others. Images of Keona in the same state as his mama flashed in his mind, forcing him to stop and close his eyes. As he did so, he muttered lowly, his tone hard, "Stop." He had been dealing with enough lately. He didn't need his mind to start making up worst case scenarios. With that, he took another deep breath inward before opening his eyes once more, and stepping onto the dock.
His usually cold azure gaze cut through the crowd that was bustling on the docks, searching around for the small form that he knew so well. Eventually, he managed to pinpoint her scent, rushing towards the tiny boat that had docked at the end of the wooden structure. When he arrived, however, he didn't find his sister. Or rather, he didn't find her in the state that he was used to. Instead, a large – well, relatively small, actually, but large to him – wolf was stepping off of the ride, bearing Keona's scent. For a moment, Roan's mind ran wild with possibilities, his gaze flicking over the canine's chest, searching for some sign of blood. Had they... eaten Keona, and now intended to attack the rest of them? It was a ridiculous possibility, but the thought of his sister shape-shifting was similarly foreign. She had never done so before to his knowledge, and he hadn't even been aware she had the ability to. Still... he found himself questioning, slightly breathless, "...Keona? Is that you?"
Roan's own experiences with shape-shifting were... strained, admittedly. He had only done so twice, and neither time had actually been voluntary. The first time had been after he dreamed about Musicbox's memories. The upsetting nightmares had twisted and torn at his birth form, turning him from a cream colored draconic siamese to a zombified blue tabby, barely held together by crisscrossing threads. He had been desperate to escape from that form in the aftermath, hating the way that it didn't make him feel like himself. Not to mention the way that it had smelled of rot, something that was especially off-putting for a medic.
The second time he had shape-shifted had been when he was kidnapped, and taken to The Iron Forged. His battle with Kliment had been a short-lived one, and he had felt rather resigned to his fate by the time they had reached the other's destination. He still wasn't willing to die, however. That desire to live had been what had pushed him to transform when his mama had hosted a raid on the enemy group, his form shifting and lengthening. He could still remember the shock he had felt as he had shifted into the eastern dragon, taking to the sky and carrying another along home, with him. When he had finally been reunited with his home, he hadn't felt quite the same strong despise for the new form as he had with the blue tabby one. Unfortunately, it still hadn't felt like him, and he had similarly been eager to shift back into his old self.
With both of those experiences in mind, Roan was fairly sure that this shift hadn't been an intentional one, either. Keona had never shown any inclination to leave her birth body, and considering how stressful the Jungle Juice ritual could be... it was natural that a new power may have manifested itself. After several seconds of just looking his sister's new form over in awe and confusion, the soothsayer finally spoke once more, wings shifting against his spine, "This is certainly... new. It's not bad, though. I have to imagine it's odd for you, though." Keona relied on her other senses for pretty much everything, and to have them all be just a bit off... it would probably be stressful. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long for her to adapt, considering he didn't want to have her checking into the temple because she had walked into a wall.
Even with the large amount of surprise occupying his mind, Roan couldn't help feeling... proud. Proud, and so, so relieved that Keona was alright. That she hadn't suffered any injuries at the hands of the demons that seemed to inhabit Haven Island. It was because of this that the siamese allowed himself to show a rare spot of emotion, his gaze softening and a soft smile pulling at his muzzle. After a moment, he stepped forward to press his side lightly against Keona's, muttering, "Congratulations, by the way... how did the ritual go?" He didn't expect her to go into detail, really. Many didn't, instead preferring to keep their experiences solely in their own minds. However, he really just wanted to make sure that she was okay, and there weren't any injuries hiding away – physical or otherwise – that he hadn't picked up on.
![[Image: m8K6iBN.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/m8K6iBN.gif)