Noonday Mass Who is your father - RPLOG
From Rusted Promises
Participants
Date
30/7/476
Log
Tis near noon, July 30th, 476 SA. People gather at an easy pace into the church, taking seats where comfortable and preparing for service under the warm gazes of the attending priests.
Mirana walks up into the church, one hand holding her belly and carefully takes a seat. She doesn't often come to Noon Day unless she is leading it, usually too busy with the Orphanage or studying her creator machines. But today she easily had the time, and it would do her good.
Angus pulls the brim of his hat down to shade his eyes from the noon day sun before he walks into the church. He never was a regular at noon day mass, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't join it if he was in the right mindset of the day. He looks around, noticing Mirana as she sits and giving her a smile. Before he takes his own and waits for the priest to speak.
Leian wanders into the area, tail swaying behind her softly, her ears drooped a bit atop her head and looking drained of energy as if she'd either not awakened long, or had been very busy. Either way, she looked tired out.
Sveta enters the church, stepping in from the noon sunlight, removing and folding her feathered cloak as she does so. The goshawk gives Mirana a brief dip of her head as she passes by, but also makes sure to give Angus a considerable berth as she elects to remain standing.
A curious thing to notice, whenever someone takes a moment to look around, is a stack of paper up on the podium that is not the First Text. It looks crisp and new. Notes, a newly copied religious book? Who could tell from that angle.
Mirana:smiles a bit as she sees her brother, Angus, come in, then a bit more when Leian and Sveta follow. She dusts herself off a bit, and for the first time looks up to the podium. Insatiatble curiosity strikes the priestess, and she stares at it the book. She looks around for someone to explain why the First Text, which she had spent so much time memorising, wasn't in its rightful place.
Angus just frowns as he notices Sveta giving him a wide berth, sighing as he looks up to the podium. That was.....odd, the brim of his hat goes up. Allowing him a better look at the papers on the podium as he tilts his head in confusion.
Leian smiles a bit when she see's Mirana and walks over to her, nodding a bit before sitting nearby with a soft yawn and stretch, rubbing her face and muzzle a moment before looking around curiously
Sveta notices the stack of new papers, but doesn't appear overly concerned about it. If it's there on the lectern, the priests mad meant for it to be there - it wouldn't be, otherwise. All that remains, really, is WHY it is there, and no doubt that'll be explained all in good time.
A foreign looking being of Shralestan descent approaches the podium. He has sharp angles and a long beak. His voice is clear and firm, "My fellow beings. Some time ago, we received a great wave of missives from the Creators, blessed may they be. Today, we reveal our findings of it. But first, the traditional reading." He produces an abridged version of the First Text and flips it open to a bookmarked page, "You will know our words, for our tongue will never change when heard through the divine machines. We will speak of things most urgent and your action, reaction, or inaction can cause you great boon or bane, so always be mindful of them." A pronounced slap as he claps the book shut, regarding the crowd.
Mirana sits back and listens a moment, nodding "Passage 167 of chapter 12." she says to herself, but then leans forward again, first to Leian, "You look... unwell, is everything ok?" she asks. Then, up to the priest, "Pardon, if I speak out of turn, but what is this new tome that I see?" A bit forward perhaps, but her time had witnessed for her that an unasked question may never get answered.
This should be intresting, Angus sank a little more into his seat. Watching the priest with only slight intrest. When Mira speaks he turns to gaze at her, before his attention is drawn back to the priest. Tails swaying lightly as he waits to see what their answer is.
Leian nods softly to Mirana, smiling lightly " I am fine. Just been practicing my flute late in the night. Thinking about things. Could not sleep. It was difficult to when I tried. I am not sure why. And maybe a bit homesick." she sighs softly, lowering her head a moment at the last, before raising it again to look to the podium
"I would expect the it is a collection of the missives that were just spoken of," Sveta replies, although the crowd between her and the others might make hearing her words a little hard. "That would be my guess, am I not right?"
"Just so," speaks the priest, inclining his beak towards Sveta. As he moves, his Clever Folk badge comes into view, hidden behind the podium as it was. "This is the translation of them, each and every, growing by the day as they continue to be received. The archivists are kept busier than ever before keeping up with it. We feel enough has been pored through to give an educated report."
Mirana leans back, "My fellow Priest.. might I be able to see the untranscribed messages, at your leasure of course." She says, then, looks over to Sveta and Leian, "Leian, sweetie, you need your rest, if there is anything I can do to help, don't hessitate, alright dear?" Next to Sveta, a nod, a smile, but nothing more.
Leian nods softly to Mirana and sighs a moment " Alright. Mayhaps later. For now, I will tell you, my muse has been limited." she looks back to the one upon the podium as she listens, ears raising slightly as she leans back in her seat
Sveta frowns a little at Mirana's comment, seemingly not reacting to the smile, but keeps her thoughts on the matter to herself. Looking around her, the goshawk clears her throat. "Well, judging from what was previously revealed, I think everyone can't wait to hear what they have to say about us."
"You are, of course, welcome to volunteer for archival duty, sister, if you feel your mastery of the Old Tongue is sufficient," speaks the priest, "But I've kept you all waiting enough, let us get to the quick. We are at a crossroads. Our very destiny is being debated, hotly, amongst the Creators. Some favor us, some consider us with ill will. One constant is that they disagree with terrible, violent, words. We are not yet aware what has become of those who originally sent us, our Creator Saints, but the rest consider us a topic of extreme interest."
Mirana sighs and shakes her head, "May Shaila, Kendrac, and The Court of Life keep us safe..." she says, odd words for a Creator Priestess. "I know the Creators that are here with us know not the Promise made to us, nor have they heard of the Creator Saints who made it to us. It seems.... we were forsaken after all. But I will Volunteer what time I have to spare from the children of need up in our Orphanage. I'll put my studies of the sacred machines aside for this work." She says, then looks back to Leian and Sveta, wondering what they are thinking.
Leian looks up at Mirana and tilts her head questioningly to her, ears twitching a bit atop her head " You do mean.. For.. Right?"
"We already know that - it was, after all, quite hotly debated in the streets, I imagine." Sveta clicks her beak. "What is more important is what we can do on our part. Have the Creators made any concrete demands, appeals, or anything of the sort?"
Angus yawns softly as he sits there, before he speaks again. "That's all and good, but-" Sveta words his thoughts before he can, and he nods to the Goshawk before he turns back to the Preist.
