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 Posted: Sun Oct 06, 2013 8:50 am
Malum consilium quod mutari non potest.
A roleplay between Petra Crake and Innocent. The time is around Vespers, and the place is Easton, just on the outskirts of town. Innocent has been in Easton and has been furtively advertising his services about town, managing to generate a good amount of gossip that will hopefully draw a better crowd for the evening than the night before.
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Posted: Sun Oct 20, 2013 3:52 pm
Innocent was not proud of it, but in his first few visits to any town, it was a necessary precaution.
He clenched his teeth and used enough of his magical energy to turn into a raven completely, hopping up and down on his lectern once or twice as his Plague brain tried to reassert control over the raven body, a process that always took a few minutes. When this was done, he hopped over to the flap of the tent and flew out, leaving a few feathers in his wake. Half an hour passed, and he returned with blood on his beak, something that sickened him even as a bird, but when he shook out his feathers and returned to a man shape, he had enough magic to appear almost fully human, which was why he had gone hunting in the first place. The eyes and lives of a few rodents were the sacrifice he paid for spreading the word of Obscuvos effectively. He needed to eat eyes to fuel his magic, he needed his magic to appear human, and in his resting state as a raven Quietus, he knew he presented a sight that most humans took fright at and scattered from. He could not risk his appearance stopping apostates from making the final leap to conversion, and gradually appearing less human to his flock always eased them into seeing his real self.
Rubbing his face, he looked into a dish of water to try to see his reflection, and saw a tired, scraggly looking man glancing back. The only sign that something was at all unusual about him were his own eyes, which were still black and hollow. That was fine. Anyone familiar with Plagues was at least used to that, and it took more energy than it was worth to change them into human eyes. He clicked his tongue and splashed the water on his face, trying to make sure he rubbed off any leftover blood stains from the mice. Then he put on his vestements and entered the tent he had set up when he arrived, finding a handful of the faithful waiting for him.
The turnout was not good, but regardless, he began the service. His preaching style was different from many Obscuvians, as he tried to retain facets of Panymisian preaching styles to adjust new converts to the faith. There were too few Obscuvians in the places he preached for them to know the difference. The sermon was shorter than he might have liked, but it was necessary, as Imisus was still somewhat hostile to Obscuvians, and he was especially nervous of being found out, considering that he was born in a monastery not too far away from this village. As he concluded the sermon, he murmured "Obscuvos be with you. The next service will be tomorrow morning at Lauds-" he caught himself, remembering that not all his flock knew canonical hours, "Sunrise, that is." Smiling a somewhat strained smile, as he felt his magic beginning to wear thin, he said, "If any of my flock need spiritual guidance or the services of a priest, I will be here for you."
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Posted: Wed Oct 23, 2013 7:16 pm
The people of Easton did not really talk to Petra. They talked plenty about her, of course -- how her father had brought her late one night to her brother's place with no warning or explanation, and why she had to leave home in the first place, and most of all, what was wrong with her hands? These were the whispers Petra managed to glean behind covered mouths and furtive glances, so when the gossip began to turn toward something else altogether, Petra felt grateful for the refreshing change of pace.
At first, she wasn't completely sure what she was hearing. People spoke of a service, at sunset. But services were commonplace enough and normally nothing to get too excited about. Apparently, however, this service was to be kept secret, though judging by the number of hushed exchanges it was to be a very badly kept secret. Petra caught talk of a newcomer, a traveler. An Obscuvan. For a moment, Petra felt that familiar twinge of excitement. Then she remembered Lettie's letter. The Obscuvans had abandoned her too. Petra turned away.
Then, so quietly as if the word had been dropped into a well, Petra heard someone say Plague.
Since arriving at Easton, Petra had not given the relic a second look. Currently, it was gathering dust in a small corner behind her bed. Now for the first time, it struck her that this Plague was hers, whatever that meant. She would have to find out what that meant eventually. Petra hesitated for only a minute more before turning back around and marching up to the two gossiping housewives. "Good day," she said, smiling brightly, and the two women looked taken aback by the sudden appearance of this strange child before them. "Would you tell me more of this service?"
***
The sermon was close to the edge of town, in an area Petra had not had the chance to explore yet. Petra wore a hooded cloak, partly because of autumn chilliness, but also in some effort to be discreet. It would not do to openly show any sign of Obscuvan sympathies in a town such as Easton. Even when conversing with the two women earlier, Petra had pretended to be asking out of pure curiosity's sake as opposed to expressing an actual interest.
There weren't that many people at the site, but Petra hadn't expected too many. Most in the crowd, like Petra, had their faces somewhat obscured by hats or hoods. A few openly wore bird masks, and Petra regarded them with curiosity; she had heard of this strange Obscuvan tradition, but had never actually seen it in practice before. There was a slight hubbub in the crowd as a man stepped into the tent, and Petra looked up to find herself gazing into two deep, black voids.
So this is a Plague, Petra thought to herself, but she did not have time to give it further thought as the man launched into his sermon.
Petra had not stepped inside a church since leaving Roanoke. Despite having attended weekly services all of her life, it didn't feel altogether wrong not to go, and she got used to it over time. Also, her brother hadn't really pushed for it beyond a gentle inquiry; since joining the Guard, he hadn't been very diligent in his religious convictions either. Before Innocent started speaking, Petra wasn't sure what to expect from her first Obscuvan service. What she heard, however, felt so similar to the services of her childhood. The nostalgia it invoked called out to memories of a better time. Something in her mind locked into place, and for just a moment, everything seemed like it would turn out alright.
All too soon, Innocent spoke the words of his closing: "Obscuvos be with you." Petra blinked the tears from her eyes and sighed with both satisfaction and disappointment. She didn't want to wait for the service tomorrow. She needed more, now. Shyly, she approached the Quietus, a little hesitant when she saw the signs of exhaustion on his face. But he had offered his services, and she did need his guidance. "Please, Father Innocent," Petra started, falteringly. "My name is Petra. I... I am..." She laughed nervously. "This is new to me."
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Posted: Thu Oct 24, 2013 6:18 am
Innocent felt a prickling in his skin, meaning his feathers were trying to grow back in through the magic. He had not expected anyone to approach him, few did at first, but it seemed that at least one of his flock was undergoing some spiritual turmoil. It was usually that, when they approached him, a Plague, so soon after they first heard him preach.
He mentally scolded himself for only eating mouse eyes before the sermon. They were not strong, not enough to keep him human for more than forty minutes or so at a time. However, he could release some of the magic without her noticing, to make it easier on him, certainly. He allowed the feathers to grow back on his legs, and his tailfeathers, too. Both would be obscured by his robe. He praised Obscuvos that he did not wear the silly pantaloons that some Plagues wore, appearing human would be a much more difficult feat.
"Hello Petra," he greeted kindly, slightly more relaxed now that he had released some of his more minor magic. "I am tremendously glad that you came tonight. Allow me to welcome you into the fold, or," he hesitated, tilting his head, "Allow me to answer questions you might have to help you decide if joining the fold is right for you." Smiling a bit crookedly, he gestured to one of the makeshift pews, empty now that the crowd had dispersed, and sat down on it himself.
"What brought you here tonight, Petra? How would you like me to aid you?"
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Posted: Thu Oct 24, 2013 11:36 am
Petra remained unaware of Innocent's inner raven vs. human struggle beneath his robe. She took the weariness on his face as the usual effects of a long day of work. As Innocent spoke, she found herself focusing solely on the movements of his mouth and the warmth of the words coming from his lips. She sat down beside him on the pew, poised on the edge of her seat as if ready to take flight at any moment. There were so many questions she wanted to ask. Where could she start?
Petra looked around the tent with apprehension. Everyone else was long gone, and she was glad for it. What she was about to show Innocent next was something she would rather be kept a secret. When she looked back at the Quietus and inadvertently met his gaze, once again she felt that sensation of drowning into the emptiness where his eyes should have been. It was not a comforting feeling, and she shivered inwardly before steeling herself for her next action.
She wore no gloves, so when she reached into the satchel by her side and presented to Innocent its contents, the black-blue mottling of her fingers was clearly visible. Her hands were not the object intended for exhibition, however; Petra hoped that the priest would find what was in her hands to be the more interesting article. At first glance, it appeared to be nothing other than an ordinary box roughly the size of a good mouse. A wooden box with the faintest signs of carved adornment, it was likely the fanciest thing Petra would ever own. But even with the lid shut tight, there seemed to be a darkness pulsating from within. "I seem to find myself in the possession of a Plague," Petra said. She opened the box to reveal the lock of hair.
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Posted: Fri Oct 25, 2013 7:38 am
Innocent leaned in, brows furrowed in concern. His first thought was that the Plague wasn't hers, from the state of her hands, she had caught the Pestilence from touching it, and soon she would fall ill. But no, if she had already reached the stage where her limbs were blackening, she wouldn't have had the strength to attend a sermon, let alone speak so lucidly and clearly. So the Plague must be hers, but something else was amiss, and it was hard enough for healthy adult Grimms, he knew. Many were not up to the problems a Plague posed. His many Grimms certainly hadn't been.
"A memento?" he asked regarding the item itself, and made a move to touch the lock, but stopped himself, remembering that this far north, Cultists had a reputation as Plague-thieves.
"Has it brought you grief?" he asked, more sympathetically, remembering how he had seemed to bring trouble whatever he did. "They say that Grimms are blessed by Obscuvos, but it is a difficult blessing for many to bear."
Now that he knew her secret, that she was a Grimm, he rather thought he should change fully, after all. If she were to keep the Plague, she needed to realize how strange and unsettling they could become. Still, he had a little energy left, and before he proposed such a scheme, he preferred to hear her thoughts about her strange keepsake.
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Posted: Fri Oct 25, 2013 7:47 pm
As Innocent drew closer, Petra held her ground. Though she found the Obscuvan Quietus somewhat disconcerting, she did not fear him. She did not even mistrust him. His hesitancy to touch the lock of hair perplexed her. Was there something wrong with one Plague touching another?
"Not a memento," Petra said. "A lock of Magister Anthea's hair, from Persea. I... you may have noticed, but I suffer from the holy fire." Petra wondered if an Obscuvan would know of the curative powers of Magister Anthea's remains. The purported curative powers, that is. Petra's mouth set in a hard line. "First, my family searched for a cure from the church. When that failed," and she indicated the relic with a dip of her head, "they turned to a doctor of science. They wished to cut off my hands. I said no. An Obscuvan saved me."
Petra hadn't really planned on telling Innocent all of that, but it was as if once she started going, she couldn't stop. She wasn't used to talking so much about herself. The girl cleared her throat and attempted a change in subject. "How can a blessing be hard to bear -- are blessings not good, prosperous things? Is Obscuvos' blessing difficult for you as well, Father?" As he was a priest, Petra did not doubt that he was touched by the blessing of whatever God he prayed to.
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Posted: Sat Nov 02, 2013 6:12 pm
Innocent listened sympathetically as she told him her story. "Disease and disfigurement," he remarked, "Of any sort, are afflictions that are difficult to bear, particularly within the fold of the Panymisian church." With a rueful smile, he confessed, "I was a holy bird, much like your lock of hair, but when I became a Plague, the church turned its back on me, and an Obscuvian mendicant spirited me to safety." He skimmed over the details, for though he did not doubt Petra's sincerity, they were too close to the monastery he had come from for him to feel comfortable with full disclosure to anybody.
"At first I struggled with Obscuvianism," he ruminated. "After all, I was associated with a Panymisian saint. I was also given a Panymisian education, and my Grimms were all venerable fathers of the church. Even though they rejected me, to reject them felt like an act of betrayal. After all, so many magisters within the history of the church had undergone hardship and condemnation. But unlike those magisters, they did not even see me as human. They did not think Plagues have souls." The empty sockets that were his eyes met hers searchingly. "You will always have a soul, Petra, no matter what faith you belong to. Your body is afflicted with disease, but in the eyes of those men who were my Grimms, a part of you will always endure."
He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Obscuvos's blessing to me was a soul." he announced. "My guilt for abandoning the church that raised me could not be greater than the joy I took in that gift, and in the end, I could not believe in a faith that would deny such a fundamental blessing to a creature based upon the circumstances of its birth."
He shifted and felt more of his feathers growing in. "Petra, do you intend to keep this Plague?" he asked. "Think carefully. You are still welcome in the eyes of the Panymisian Church, and they have much to offer you. If you keep that Plague, however, you must not think solely of your own salvation, but of theirs as well."
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Posted: Sun Nov 03, 2013 8:41 pm
So, he was born a Panymisian. It explained a lot -- his methods of preaching, his sympathy toward her predicament. Petra had never met a convert before. Then again, she hadn't met all too many Obscuvans in general either.
Innocent was quickly delving into a whole area of philosophy she'd never even thought about before. Did Plagues have souls? She had always assumed, casually, that they did not, simply because they were not human. In fact, having never knowingly met a Plague before this day, she'd always thought of them more like very strange animals. But she could hear intelligence in Innocent's voice. More than that, she thought that she could hear feeling -- contemplation, sadness, guilt. Petra looked down at the lock of hair and imagined it alive, complete with joys and sorrows and habits and fears. She imagined the look on its face if she were to deny it the fundamental right to its own divine existence: monster, disease, abomination. She caught herself staring instead at her own blackened hands and realized that at some point in her mind the imaginary Plague's face had blurred into her own.
"I will keep her," Petra announced, the words leaving her lips even before they had fully registered in her head. "Because if she does have a soul, then...it is the right thing to do. And because I know what it is like to be rejected." She looked up at Innocent with a pained expression. "My parents will no longer talk to me. They sent me away. Even my brother, here in Easton... I feel that he can barely stand to look at me," she confided quietly.
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Posted: Sun Nov 03, 2013 9:37 pm
Innocent shook his head. "It would be wise, Petra, not to scorn them, but to learn from their shame. Not everyone is strong enough to bear it when someone whose welfare is theirs to safeguard is injured in a way they cannot fix; that is one of the greatest burdens that any guardian can bear." He gestured to the Plague in her hands.
"Even if you feel empathy for her, even if you can see her as a thinking, living thing, she is a heavy burden to bear, and you must understand what you are volunteering to do fully." He fidgeted anxiously, and said, "During the sermon and all this while, I have used magic unique to myself to disguise my true form, to make myself into something more bearable to you humans. I will now release this magic entirely, since you must see the extent to which a Plague can be disfigured."
There was a soft sensation, not quite a sound, but more a feeling of tension being released, and the Innocent who sat next to her was suddenly quite different. Moving slowly and speaking softly, so as not to alarm her, he lifted a wing. "You see, I was not even given the gift of human hands." Smiling wanly, he lifted up his robe slightly, and added, "Or feet. Fortunately, I can become more human, but my resting state is this form, which is of little use to anybody. Even just to read takes a great deal of effort. Your Plague may end up being almost as human as you are, but they may also end up being as crippled and cumbersome as myself."
He settled back into the pew, which took some doing now that he wasn't properly human. "I truly think the Obscuvian church is the safest place for Grimms and Plagues, but it is a great burden for a young girl to shoulder." He frowned, and added, "Please do not think me to be unsympathetic to your predicament. I will do everything I can to help you, but I will do it whether you choose to keep your Plague or not. There is always a place in the church for those who need aid."
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Posted: Wed Nov 06, 2013 11:10 am
Even if I do not blame them for it, that does not make their actions hurt any less, Petra thought, but she bowed her head in humility at Innocent's admonishment all the same.
Because she was looking down, she did not notice the change right away. Then she looked up and saw, and she couldn't help but gasp. Her hand flew to her mouth, then slowly lowered. There was the faintest hint of fear in her eyes.
He had feathers; no, he had wings. His feet were, well -- one thing at a time. The meaning of his origins as a holy bird were now clear. Petra thought of the relic in her hand and wondered what kind of creature would emerge from it. A maiden with tresses flowing all the way to her feet? Or even some sort of furry beast, covered in hair just as feathers now covered the man before her?
When he spoke, however, his voice remained unchanged. So did his eyes, those black eyes which suddenly seemed comforting simply for their relative familiarity. In time, Petra thought, she could get used to the feathers and the wings and the claws, too.
"You are not a cripple!" Petra burst out, barely restraining herself from adding, not like me. Shaking the self-pitying thought from her mind, her next words came out in a tumble. "You have your magic, you have your faith, you have... you have wings, for heaven's sake." She reached out, hesitantly, and touched one feather. "They're beautiful," she said softly, and suddenly she understood that her fear did not come from disgust. It came from awe.
"I see now that you are truly a good person, Father, and I say in return: please do not think my interest in the Obscuvian church to be solely for the good of this Plague. This is something that I want for myself as well, and any help you are able to offer would be a debt I could never hope to repay." Petra hesitated, unsure if the next words she wanted to say would be too presumptuous. After all, Innocent hadn't explicitly said what he could do to help her. "But if I may ask, is there anything I could do to help you as well? My hands are not yet completely useless, and I loathe to be a burden while I can still do some good. I could...I could help you with your books! You did say that you sometimes have trouble with reading."
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Posted: Fri Nov 29, 2013 6:42 pm
When Innocent smiled, there was a rustling of stubbly feathers. "You present a fiery defense of me," he acknowledged. "If you feel so strongly about it, I won't ever bemoan my fate again."
His smile faded when Petra presented her plan, and he tried to cross his arms before realizing that he no longer had any, a problem that often plagued him right after changing back from his human shape. "Ah, well, it may be true that I have trouble with reading, but Petra, you are still a young girl, and your family, whether or not you are a burden to them, are alive and willing to care for you. We may have a great deal in common, but I'm a strange man you've just met! Worse! A strange Plague! And I've spent my whole life as either a monk or a solitary priest. What makes you think I would be able to care for you?"
He tried to stroke his chin, instead hitting himself in the face with a wing and making an undignified little squawk. "The transition is the hardest part," he admitted sheepishly, smoothing out his robe. "Petra, the call to faith takes many forms. If you feel that Obscuvos is calling you to me, I won't belittle your calling, but there are many paths that faith can take, also. What makes you think that coming with me is the right thing to do?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 9:59 pm
Petra flushed at his words, feeling very small in his eyes. How young and naive she must seem to him! Just a girl from the countryside, carrying two plagues. "I do not wish to be a burden to you," she said slowly. "But I would just like to suggest that what I need is not to be cared for; what I need is an education. I can take care of myself." Her chin went up in a subconscious desire to seem taller and older, though her eyes remained uncertain.
Her next words came out disjointed, like pieces of glass that would not fit together no matter how hard she tried. "One of the many things I do not know about Plagues, and I do need to learn - she said, and her eyes flickered away and then back, - have you ever had a family? Do you know what it feels like to have a family?" She paused to gather her thoughts. "I know what it was like to have a mother, a father, and brothers who all cherished you and loved you, and what it was like to cherish and love them in return. So I also know the difference between a loving family and a cold one. They may be alive, but willing?" Petra looked down and away, struggling and failing to keep the bitterness from her voice. Her hands fumbled restlessly with the wooden box in her lap. "I think a better word would be obligated."
"If you do not think that you can help me, then I understand, and I thank you for the guidance you have already given me. But with or without your help, I shall pursue this. You have shown me that it is the right path to go."
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Posted: Sat Dec 21, 2013 7:09 pm
Innocent looked away. "I have had a family," he said, somewhat hoarsely, although his voice was now much hoarser than when he seemed almost human anyway. "But they did not even feel obligated to keep me. Obligation is a form of love, Petra, no matter how weak it may seem to you."
Still, she had made valid points, and he did know how she felt- more actuely than perhaps she realized. He frowned, staring at his taloned feet, which were just poking out from under his robe. "I can teach you, if you do not fear me," he decided, "But we will ask your family. I will make myself appear entirely human tomorrow, it takes a great deal of effort, but it can be done, and I will request to take you on as an apprentice. If you wish it, I will not mention my faith, merely that I am a holy man. Is that not the way that things are customarily done?"
He appraised her quietly, and said, "Many must break ties with their families to pursue the Obscuvian faith. I do not blame you for wishing to do the same, but it is not a step you should take rashly. Try to inflict as little hurt as possible. It may not always seem like the Obscuvian way, but it is the right way."
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Posted: Thu Dec 26, 2013 8:13 pm
Petra let out the breath she was holding in a shocked sort of gasp. She bowed her head so quickly that her neck twinged in pain, but she hardly noticed. "Thank you Father, thank you," she said in a rush. Her mind was on fire as it already began to formulate what to say to her brother tonight. If she phrased it the right way, one which framed this path as the right thing for both her and the family, Petra thought she could convince him.
Petra reached for Innocent's hands to kiss them but found only feathers; after a slight hesitation, she touched her lips to his wing tips. The feathers felt softer than skin, like black silk. "My brother resides in the quarters at the southwest end of town. Ask for Private Crake. I will speak to him tonight."
The relic felt solid and real in her hands, and Petra gripped onto it tightly as she rose from her seat. "Thank you, Father," she said again, backing into one of the pews in her enthusiasm. She laughed, abashed. "I wait in earnest for our next meeting!" She ducked out of the tent before she could embarrass herself further.
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