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Friendly Conversationalist
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 Posted: Wed May 12, 2010 9:47 pm
❝ You Shall Overcome ❞
▫ WHERE ▫
Colwe, in Shyregoed, within the walls of Theo's cathedral.
▫ WHO ▫
Miss Elsie Crane and Mister Theodore Lucas, accompanied by a plague-ridden ring and cup of coffee. (played by Rown & haliekins)
▫ WHEN ▫
Late evening, shy of the ten o'clock hour, with the weather being crisply cold from the recent snows.
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Posted: Wed May 12, 2010 9:58 pm
Ten o'clock was fast approaching. It was the time of night where the singing insects of the early evening hours had long gone to sleep, along with the gentle lantern glow of every home along the cobbled streets. Theo's lips were pulled into a frown of careful concentration as he made his rounds around the altar and the front pews, extinguishing the flames as he went with a richly-decorated candle snuffer. His hands ached and his eyes were weary as he moved swiftly, feet near invisible under the hem of his robe.
He loathed having to do the final night watch of the evening. Locking the heavy double doors always took such a strain on his fragile arms and he went to bed sore and irritated, with a fresh film of sweat on his skin. At least while the others were off in bed, none were able to observe him completing this task.
... None save for the high priest, that is. The taller man watched him from the doors with a hawk-like stare and arms folded over his chest, remaining the proud surveyor of the assistant priest. As much as Theo disliked the man, he had to obey the hierarchy within these walls, if he wanted to succeed. But at this point, thanks to a certain golden piece of jewelry, he wasn't much sure of that one either. The evening was almost over though, thankfully. Good. He didn't want to go to bed in an even fouler mood than usual.
But a timid knocking on the double doors chased the thought from his mind. Both men gaped in half surprise at the wooden barrier, before the high priest reached for the worn brass door handle.
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Friendly Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed May 12, 2010 10:09 pm
She could not sleep, that much was certain and was fairly common knowledge amongst all else who knew the woman Elsie Crane. Her days and nights were haunted with waking screams and cold sweats, sheets constantly changed and nightgowns ruined from her fear. There was only so much hospitality a woman could stand on before she found herself at fault, before she would dismiss herself from the kindness bestowed upon her.
Were Elsie's brother here he more than likely would have told her to speak about her ills, to tell him and others about what drove her awake in the hours of the night, yet Thomas was not here to comfort the shivering youth. She could not thrust herself upon the consideration that was being shown to her by that mysterious man known as Sloane, nor could she even dare to think that the Lady might want to listen to her troubles. She had done them a service, yes, but it had not been one that was great. She may have saved a few lives by her actions, but it was also by her own accord that many others perished. Such thoughts rested heavy on her soul and her mind, and that was what drove her out of the Northern Base that night in search of a way to free herself.
For once Elsie had dressed properly against the elements she would be braving, warmth enveloping her like an embrace, and it was through her movements and memories that she found her way towards a local parish, a fine establishment that was sure to hold men of God. Men who would be willing to listen to her words other than the Lord himself. Men who would forgive her. It was almost laughable how much of Elsie's life depended on what a man gave to her, or what a man did to her, but now was not a time for such thoughts. She raised her hand and knocked on the door, having found it barred, and she blinked her eyes against the light that poured out as it was opened. Warmth flooded the area about her and she raised her hand to the level of her eyes, trying to glance in at those who stood before her.
"Forgive me, Father. I do not dare impose on you at this hour would it be a trouble, but I fear I have something I must confess before my soul shall ever find peace."
Her plea was soft, desperate, and out in the shivering cold she looked rather forlorn as well.
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Posted: Wed May 12, 2010 10:25 pm
Theo had just barely glimpsed the young woman who shivered under the archways of the church with a critical stare. It had been his church's luck to receive many wayward strangers in these past few weeks, be it those of high rank or urchins. Ever since that damned ring had come into his possession. But something about this evening seemed different. There was no want for warmth or food in the brief look he had at the woman's eyes, just a want to be healed. To forget something horrible that she had seen.
Unnerving.
"The church always opens her arms to those in need." Theo inwardly winced at the saccharine tone of his superior's words as the man leaned out to speak to her, blocking the assistant from the woman's sight. They were words that he could not cleave to, but that the general public that moved through this building seemed to eat up like sweets. The high priest gestured subtly with his hand at his side. So it was to be him doing the Confession, was it? So be it. The older priest pressed a gentle hand on the young woman's shoulders, leading her into the full warmth of the church. "Follow me to the Confessional. The Priest shall be with you shortly."
By this point, Theo had disappeared through the side doors on the west wing of the church, awaiting his cue and listening to the muffled words. The high priest led her towards the wooden booth that was affixed towards one of the side walls nearby, hidden from the prying eyes of those who normally occupied the pews by a conveniently-placed support beam. The box was was simple, designs etched into the outside trappings and dappling the remaining light onto the inside seats. He heard the priest pull back the rich velvet partition. The sound of his shoes on the polished mahogany floors carried him to the door, where Theo stood aside for the high priest to enter. As per tradition, he gave the younger woman some time to settle herself and pull the curtain closed. The older of the two churchmen smiled.
"You may proceed, Theo." The assistant frowned at the man, recognizing his words as a test. The half-grin on his lips assured him that this was going to be added to the repertoire that has yet to be considered for ordainment. Damn this man.
But the look of the woman's face as she had stood in the cold, her breaths coming in weighted pants and steaming the air.. that look had haunted him. Perhaps his exhaustion from the day played into it, but he couldn't shake the queer feeling he was having. With that in mind, he stepped through the door and immediately into the unoccupied side of the box. Theo knocked on the panel that separated the two of them and pulled aside the minute door that covered the screen through which she was to speak to him, as the ambassador to a power he didn't fully believe in.
"What have you to Confess before the Lord?"
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Friendly Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed May 12, 2010 10:37 pm
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I cannot recall how long it has been since my last confession, if perhaps I have ever tried to atone for my sins at all. I am a heathen in the eyes of our Lord, yet I find myself in need of His guidance."
Elsie had never been inside a confessional before, as her profession as a whore later turned grave robber had lead her long ago to believe that setting foot inside a church would lead her to having her face melt from her body. Many of the other ladies of the night told her horror stories about Christ and the Virgin Mother coming along to smite the wicked who dared enter hallowed halls, tossing them into the fiery pits of Hell, and despite considering herself of sound mind Elsie took some words to heart and became terrified of the buildings. It wasn't until much later and some yelling from her brother that she overcame that small branch of fear, yet there was always something unsettled in the pit of her stomach. Was there really a God? Was he....?
In any case, that was why she had come today, to confess what she had seen and ask God for forgiveness towards her actions. It was painfully obvious what was haunting her every step of her day, every blink of her eyes, and perhaps with someone here to listen all the ghosts would vanish and her soul could be lessened the burden of their deaths. Elsie was far too young to bear such grief upon her conscience - it would either drive her down a path to insanity or lay her in an early grave.
"Through my own inaction father, I have allowed innocents to parish. Men, women, children...it is though I have killed them all myself. I was but a coward, and I have killed people with my own shame."
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Posted: Wed May 12, 2010 10:51 pm
Men, women, children...it is though I have killed them all myself. I was but a coward, and I have killed people with my own shame.
Theo blinked numbly at the words. This woman.. what had she done? His hands rested numbly atop his long legs, fingers carefully linked together. While not apparent to him that this had been Elsie's first Confession, he was painfully aware of the fact that this was his first attempt at conducting one. Like the other assistants, he had been readily trained on the rights to say, how many "hails" or "praises" to assign for certain sins, but he was more sought after for face-to-face interaction (for who knew what reasons). In his mind, this kind of intimacy had appealed to him, moreso that he could display his face without the hindrance of the mask he wore in front of others. It was less work to uphold a false tone without the burden of the facial expressions.
But his face remained blank, and his fingers began to tremble, either from the day's exertions, the cold, or the odd feeling he was having, he couldn't tell. But he had a job to do, and a superior peering out from the open doorway, listening, and watching, always watching. He could only march ahead with the serious, heavy-handed tone that he was taught to give during this ritual.
"Just what have you done that has caused so much turmoil within?" He could feel the ring pressing up against his thigh as he asked the question. He had a sense of foreboding about the answer to come. "What have you seen that haunts you?" The strangest thing about it was despite his original vision of Confession, he was now asking to sate his own curiosity as well, any hint of masking now gone from his voice.
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Friendly Conversationalist
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Posted: Thu May 13, 2010 7:45 am
The sounds of shifting in the Confessional box could be heard, Elsie moving her sore and cold legs ever so slightly. She was kneeling, as most who confessed would, but it was a silly and almost unfamiliar position for the young woman despite her combination of professions. Lack of sleep and stress had made her body ache with fevered chills and pain, sometimes leading her to the belief she was coming down with the plague. What a laughable thought that was, to have survived all this time stealing from bodies only to perish while out surveying castles. Such could be considered Elsie's luck though, and if it were her fate to die in this manner - she would accept it.
Her mind had wandered just a bit until the sound of a young man's voice echoed into her ears, the Priest she assumed - piteous that he was a young man! - and instead of telling her what she wanted to initially hear he was asking her more. An eyebrow would have been raised in suspicion if the girl were thinking more clearly, but since she had never been to confession before in her life Elsie knew not what to expect. Perhaps she had to explain it all in detail in order to obtain her punishment and forgiveness? That seemed a little heavy-handed in her mind, but what could she do?
"I had knowledge, Holy Father, of those suffering in pain and anguish. Their time was limited, their suffering great and stealing away their livelihoods, yet I did not rush to find them aide. I was too frightened for my own life to ask for assistance for myself or for them, my hellish pride keeping me to do things on my own. While I do not know if those I had seen at the time truly perished before the help I obtained arrived to liberate them, I can say that at least one died before my eyes. I will never forget the way he looked at me, as though he were damning me to Hell himself."
Elsie clasped her hands together in the position of prayer, pulling them back and against her mouth. She was doing her best not to weep as she spoke, though it was obvious her voice was choked with tears and sorrow; her words were raspy and uneven.
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Posted: Thu May 13, 2010 8:11 am
Theo was astonished. This timid waif of a girl had seen something that most people likely had not seen.. or at least, lived to tell about it. His eyes tried to discern her through the screen, but in failing to do so he was left to lower his gaze back towards his hands, by now shaking from the exhaustion of the day, he had decided. From his position in the doorway, the head priest was listening intently as well, eyebrows arched curiously - the only indication that he was indeed interested in the confessions of this girl. The assistant priest looked towards him, and the man shook his head with a disapproving frown.
Just as he'd thought; he'd slipped up when asking for more information. A good priest would not do that, not that he was truly devout or anything; he was merely doing what he could to keep his head above water in the only place that would accept him, and for the most part he played his role well, with the exception of the occasional mistake, such as the one he had just made.
But the problem was that now he had started, he had a feeling that he had stumbled onto something very sinister. Not from the girl, mind you, but in terms of what she had seen and fled in terror from.
"This is a grave scene indeed." Theo's voice sounded strange to his ears, strained, and he cleared his throat a couple of times to rid himself of that tone. "In order to cleanse yourself of this burden, you must dispel it. Everything you can remember from that incident acts as a sinful poison, and keeping it to yourself will only spread it. For the sake of forgiveness in the eyes of the Lord, confess anything else that comes to mind from that evening." His shield was down, and he cast a glance back over to the high priest, who merely nodded stiffly. This was shaky territory for him, something they definitely didn't cover in his training for one's standard confession, but he had to work with it the best he could. Hopefully the addition of "forgiveness" might have assuaged any suspicions she may have had.
Although selfishly it was moreso for his own morbid curiosity, and that of the priest's, judging by how he leaned from the doorway in order to hear the girl's quiet, trembling voice. Oh yes, they had stumbled onto something quite serious, without any question.
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Friendly Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed Jul 07, 2010 10:51 am
"I...I will not speak of it to you Father, even if you ask me to do so. I cannot bare to relieve these moments confessing to another person when I know I must speak to God alone. I cannot bring myself to bare my heart even though I have come to you to do so, for I feel that speaking of such things would place us all under the eye of the Lord. But...but...if you think I will not be forgiven unless...."
Elsie's voice trembled as she pulled her arms closer to her body, her hands still clasped in the position of prayer and her forehead lowering so it rested against her knuckles. She was doing her best not to weep inside that confessional, to break down and mourn as she had always wished to do so. Elsie knew the priests would not look poorly on her, she knew that they would listen and not turn her away, but there was still that fear of being cast into Hell for not helping that burned into her mind with a grasp that refused to let her speak.
She didn't know how much longer she could hold out, her bottom lip trembling. A voice echoed inside her head to speak, to be forgiven, and a tear slid down her cheek as her mouth opened and Elsie was unable to stop the torrent that poured forth.
"I... . . they were cutting them up! People in pieces, bloodied! Bodies tossed to the ground like rags, chained to the wall like cattle waiting for the slaughter! Men, women! The...the children. . . .bodies everywhere! They were killing them!"
She was sobbing now, a loud wail that forced her to back away from where she was kneeling and curling into a ball in the corner. Her cries echoed about the booth as she allowed herself the sobbing that had been so richly denied, her words choking themselves and not coming forth.
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Posted: Sat Jul 24, 2010 5:04 pm
People.. being cut into pieces. Men, women, children.. what horrors this woman has seen.
Theo felt utterly ill. Listening to this woman sobbing increased the feeling of guilt that writhed inside him. He toyed with the ring on his finger and shook his head with sickness rising inside him. He had pushed her this far and forced her to confess, if only to sate his morbid curiosity. Her sobs echoed in his being and he rested a hand against the window that connected them, made her voice sound as though she were crying on his shoulders. He was no stranger to the sounds of grief, but the fact that he had done this, pushed her to the very edge of her composure and over, made her relive these horrors.. what kind of person was he?
He swallowed quietly to push the bile back down his throat. With a shaky glance to the high priest, who watched with unmasked curiosity, he steeled his voice so as not to betray his own feelings to the woman seeking solace.
"You are confessed and found forgiven. Go with peace and may the Lord walk with you."
And with that he slid the window shut, stood and abruptly left the box He moved past the high priest through the door without a word, leaving him to see the girl out; at this point in time, he simply couldn't deal with what he was feeling. Bitter guilt, revulsion at how uncivilized people could act, and, perhaps most foreign of all, overwhelming pity.
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Friendly Conversationalist
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