600 words of Victorian fantasy shintoism! I'm on a roll.
As the cab drove away, Skye stared up at the temple entrance.
Round marble pillars flanked the double doors and the steps leading inside were made of the same flawless white marble. On the outside of the temple, the walls were grey and grimy from the city's fumes, but on the inside they were pannelled with polished red wood. The pillars continued on the inside, dividing the round temple hall into segments. Along the walls stood small stands selling prayer tablets, scrolls and banners and the stands near the doors sold spirit figurines and ornaments to take home or give to those in need of prayer. At the centre of the temple hall, bathing in the sunlight that fell in through the temple's oculus, stood the statues of the spirits. Some popular spirits had baskets full of prayer scrolls at their feet, while most had nails stuck in their pedestals to hang the banners or tablets on. The prayer peddlers were quiet in their dealings, the only sound in the temple was a soft murmur and the occaisional resounding of the chimes that hung around the statues.
Knowing exactly what he wanted, Skye ambled to one of the stalls and bought two banners for the crown he had in his hand. As he turned to face the spirits, he drew a deep breath. He didn't pray often, not for himself anyway. He wasn't sure if it was respect or shame that made him bow his head as his appreached the statues. He bowed, pulled the cord of a chime and snagged one banner on a nail below the statue of Lady Fortuna.
"Grant them your blessing," he mumbled.
Then he moved on and hung the other banner on the pedestal of the Storyteller. He pulled at the chime and stared up at the Storyteller's masked face.
"Grant them your blessing. They really need it today."
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As the cab drove away, Skye stared up at the temple entrance.
Round marble pillars flanked the double doors and the steps leading inside were made of the same flawless white marble. On the outside of the temple, the walls were grey and grimy from the city's fumes, but on the inside they were pannelled with polished red wood. The pillars continued on the inside, dividing the round temple hall into segments. Along the walls stood small stands selling prayer tablets, scrolls and banners and the stands near the doors sold spirit figurines and ornaments to take home or give to those in need of prayer. At the centre of the temple hall, bathing in the sunlight that fell in through the temple's oculus, stood the statues of the spirits. Some popular spirits had baskets full of prayer scrolls at their feet, while most had nails stuck in their pedestals to hang the banners or tablets on. The prayer peddlers were quiet in their dealings, the only sound in the temple was a soft murmur and the occaisional resounding of the chimes that hung around the statues.
Knowing exactly what he wanted, Skye ambled to one of the stalls and bought two banners for the crown he had in his hand. As he turned to face the spirits, he drew a deep breath. He didn't pray often, not for himself anyway. He wasn't sure if it was respect or shame that made him bow his head as his appreached the statues. He bowed, pulled the cord of a chime and snagged one banner on a nail below the statue of Lady Fortuna.
"Grant them your blessing," he mumbled.
Then he moved on and hung the other banner on the pedestal of the Storyteller. He pulled at the chime and stared up at the Storyteller's masked face.
"Grant them your blessing. They really need it today."