(open) just a plain and simple chapel

[fallingsand]

WHO: Bruno Madrigal and whoever wanders out his way.
WHERE: Barrens, an abandoned chapel amongst the ruins.
WHEN: vague hand waggle over the month
WHAT: Bruno, unable to not be some local cryptid, has taken up residence in a ruined chapel rather than living in the city like a regular person.
WARNINGS: n/a

clean-up.

[ In the first week of wandering into the chapel and deciding that may as well be where he remained for the time being, Bruno's time was split between sitting in a dusty old pew and staring blankly at the wall ahead and, then, picking up refuse scattered around the place and tossing it out the east side of the chapel, right off the edge of where the Barren's most abandoned Vestige curls downward towards the chasm that the rest of it collapsed into.

It was an easy way of getting rid of, well, a lot. The place was cluttered with broken wood and stone and overgrown with weeds and scratchy thorn bushes, not to mention vines. While the broken wood would be kept, the rest? The rest could go.

It would not be unusual to come across him trying his best to rip out a thorn bush that's grown through a window with his bare hands, with plenty of pauses to mutter and grumble or for him to cringe away when he got a particularly nasty poke from a thorn. ]

...y'know, one of those scythes would actually be useful right now...

[ Or some gloves. Gloves would work, too. ]

ruins are for looting, every adventure novel says so.

[ But once he — and perhaps a little help — have tidied the chapel up enough, it was time to find a way to make it more comfortable. Bruno hadn't gone looking for a job just yet. To be truthful, he wasn't sure how one did that, as his only job had ever been overwhelmingly unpopular oracle and that sure didn't look good on paper. That meant he would have to source his home goods from somewhere a bit more, uh, left behind.

It does mean rattling around the other abandoned ruins of buildings that litter the Barren, however, and that isn't necessarily safe, now is it?

To anyone else happening by, they'll hear a large crack of something breaking, followed by a startled yell and the telltale thud of someone landing heavily in one of the ruined, haphazardly leaning buildings nearby. ]

festive.

[ And last but not least, decorating. For the holiday, in fact. By the third week of the month, the chapel is looking... a little better? As in it doesn't have garbage and infinite overgrowth clogging up the floor and windows and Bruno's managed to dust it enough so he isn't constantly sneezing. Holes in the roof have been patched. They could use some work still, as some of the rain does leak in now and again, but hey, he can worry about that later.

What's important now is that some kind Restless lady in the city offered him her leftover decorations for Respite after he helped her put them up outside her own residence. Gleaming gold-toned ornaments that catch and reflect the moonlight, and other little baubles that give off a marigold and ginger-colored glow; they were a treat to put up back at the chapel and add a splash of color to an otherwise dreary place. Better yet, speaking of treats, he'd picked up some on the way back out of the city. It'd been a surprisingly nice day, this day, to end up with any of this at all.

So it might be the spots of bright orange light that draw the eye or the drifting scent of the little campfire within, boiling up firstdawn tea to go with the sundrop cake he managed to get his hands on, that beckons you closer to the little chapel. It's no trap. It's just Bruno, merrily humming in a rare good mood as he works on stringing up the decorations along one of the windows. ]

Comments

clean-up.

[coherer]

The Reapers' scythes? (jonas has the appropriacy to sound aghast, forcing a pew upright with a grunt of effort.) Don't even. I still have bruises from those assholes. I know, like, hashtag "not all Reapers," but I think most of them probably suck—watch your hands with those, I don't have any bandaids.

(he rests for a moment in the seat he's created for himself, flapping the front of his tank top to air himself out.

it's beautiful, in a vintage way. the bones of the chapel are strong, and jonas decides he's a fan of the exposed plaster and brick of its walls. while the structure is senescent, giving off an air that no one but the truest disciples of god belongs here, he also feels comfortable. his soul feels less... stretched. there's no need to act bold or better than he is here, having previously felt thinned out and twisted by fear.)

I think the ceiling's wood should be, like, completely uncovered. I mean, that drywall-looking stuff that's chipping off of it looks way worse. I don't even know how to get up there, though... might be a future project.

[fallingsand]

Well, yeah, but that doesn't change that a scythe to cut these out would be really... [ And he rips another chunk of thorny brush up with a grimace. He knew he was scratching his hands up doing this but that didn't change that it had to be done. ] ...useful. Ugh.

[ He tosses the spiky flora aside with the rest that he's pulled up so far and turns to look up, at the ceiling that Jonas has mentioned. It does still look like a patchy mess with drywall peeling off and full of cracks. Whether the wood under it is any healthier, well. He hasn't been up there yet, either. ]

Mm. Maybe? We'd need a, uh, scaffolding to do that. We'd have to build one on our own and that might take a while.

[ Hence why it would be a future project. ]

[coherer]

(scaffolding. that's a pretty big job, but it lingers in the back of jonas' mind as his fingers drum idly on a knee. short rest coming to a close, he leans forward to wipe at his forehead and breathe.)

Hey, uh, this guy said he'd take care of my finances here, (he begins, and the whole thing immediately sounds dubious.) Like, he'll get me whatever I want. So, maybe I can get him to chip into getting us some tools. That'd help with a lot of this.

(with that, he stands again with a clap at his thighs, head on a swivel looking for something to do. the floor needs a desperate sweeping, but that's a last-minute item, so instead jonas refocuses his efforts on clearing the aisles and picking up segments of fallen ceiling.)

I wonder how old it all is. It looks, like... less than modern, but maybe somebody came through and trashed it, you know?

[fallingsand]

[ A guy said he'd take care of Jonas' finances— excuse him, what? Bruno's tugging on the next set of thornbush comes to an immediate half and he leeeeans over, peering around the thorny little branches to stare uncertainty at Jonas. ]

Uh, Jonas. I know I grew up, like, really isolated myself, but that's... that's definitely too good to be true. [ Forget about whether or not someone specifically trashed this place in the past, that other comment? More important. Immediately. ] Who is this guy?

Clean-up!

[immortalrose]

[While much of Stygia remains a mystery to him, Augustine cannot help but find some semblance of beauty here. This sprawling metropolis is nowhere near as beautiful as his Hawthorne but there’s a few gems hidden here. One such gem being this old church he just happened to find during his stroll. The outside of the church looks miraculously well-preserved despite the telltale signs of dilapidation. A common sight for anyone who dares to venture through the ruins here. He has become used to the stench of decay, especially within the Barrens. While this church itself is in disrepair, just a little bit of work and manpower could easily give this once holy sanctuary a second chance.

Curious about the interior, Augustine gently pushes through the rickety doors of the church in favor of entering the grand lobby ahead. The narthex is large and spacious, decorated with old pews seemingly made from solid oak. It’s dark inside, almost as dark as the never-ending night outside. Thankfully, Augustine can see just well in the dark.

His bright red eyes shine brightly as he wanders deeper into the chapel. The floorboards groan beneath his feet despite how quietly he crosses the threshold, heralding to all that there’s an unwelcome visitor here.]

[fallingsand]

[ Dark until one takes note of a flicker of firelight reflecting off the ceiling from somewhere overhead. A balcony overhangs the narthex, offering more space within the chapel, perhaps previously meant for a pipe organ or more pews to sit in, but this would be the space Bruno has claimed as his own living quarters for the time being. There are no stairs up, those having long since fallen to rot and decay, no longer stable and already noted for either removal or reconstruction far into the future but until then...

Bruno himself has managed to find his own way up there. A pew pushed up against a wall, angled to act as the first half of the route up, and the rest of the way falling purely to how well one's ability to climb using a few holes in the wall and the decor built into it. Certainly, a difficult spot to get to but, considering that danger lurks alongside the strange ruins that dot the Barrens, a better plan than setting up camp on the ground-level floor.

He's in the middle of rearranging blankets and bowls and the few other items he's managed to find in the surrounding ruins when Augustine opens the door and makes his entrance. The creak of the floorboards underfoot alerts Bruno to company and there's a nervous pause from the man bustling about the balcony before he decides to take the chance and call out, uncertainty, ]

H-hello? Jonas, is that you?

[ It might just be his friend coming back. Maybe he forgot something. Maybe that's all it is. ]

[immortalrose]

[Wait, is someone living here? An incredulous chuckle escapes Augustine once he sees the pews pushed up against the wall nearby. There's a flickering light up there at the balcony, faint but still quite noticeable. While the thought of someone claiming this old chapel as their home seems ludicrous at best, Augustine cannot help but pause once someone calls to him.]

Well, well. I didn't know mass was in session.

[Unless Bruno's young friend has a peculiar melodic accent and close to three hundred years worth of baggage, that's not Jonas. No, it's some sort of creature peering up towards the balcony, something with bright red eyes. Augustine peeks up at the balcony again before moving deeper into the church. There's something that looks like an altar there.

This place would make a decent home for anyone feeling adventurous enough. However, sleeping within a church just seems oddly sacrilegious to him.]

If you mean to make this your home, I would first advise on locking the doors.

[fallingsand]

[ Oh boy, that's definitely not Jonas. He has no idea who that is, even! That's bad. That feels like it might be bad. However, even with that in mind, Bruno still collects one of the candles he has lit and slowly approaches the balcony's railing. What Augustine will find peering back down at him from over it is a small man, most certainly human, and taking in the sight of someone with bright red eyes looking back up at him immediately makes him take a step back. ]

Ah, it's... um. Uh. There's. There aren't any. Any locks on them yet, s-so.

[ Though he did shrink back from the edge of the balcony, he doesn't retreat entirely from sight. He has a nervous energy about him and a hint of fear lurking in the way he stumbles over his reply to Augustine. ]

Is. Is there something you needed?

Looting

[rattlingthestars]

[ Jim's been taking odd jobs here and there, but the good will of city Restless has started to wear thin and he thinks it's about time he found his own place to stay. That's what brought him out here, anyway, but the nature of the place was distracting. The endless ruins are fascinating, if a little creepy -

Well. A lot creepy, considering the scream and the thump.

Jim scrabbles down from the ledge he'd been attempting to climb and hurries toward the source of the noise. Should he call out? Would that just attract a monster? In the end he settles on calling out softly: ]

Anyone alive over there?

[fallingsand]

[ Oh god, oh god, he misjudged that leap so bad and now he's caught up in a rope around his leg and it's the only thing keeping him from falling the rest of the way down into the abyss that the ruins lean dangerously towards. that scream had been flooring giving way underfoot, the thud had been him hitting a wall on the way down, swung into it by the aforementioned rope, and now...

Well, now he's just hanging there panicking for a second or two right up until someone calls out, asking if he's alive or not. Technically? No, none of them are! But less technically? ]

Yes! Yes, I am, please come help me, I don't know how long this rope is going to hold!

[ He does not stop to consider that monsters might be around to hear his loud yell back to Jim, begging for aid from whoever this random stranger outside the dilapidated building might be. He has bigger concerns on his mind right now. ]

[rattlingthestars]

[ So much for not drawing attention. But still - that sounded pretty damn bad, and as much as the helpful little voice in the back of Jim's mind wants him to ignore it he finds that he can't just leave someone to their fate.

He eases around the building cautiously since he still hasn't found any kind of weapon and with a glance takes in the precarious way the rope's holding a man-sized weight before he peeks over the edge to discover the man in question. ]

Gonna last longer if you don't panic. Hold on.

[fallingsand]

Oh thank god, you're a real person!

[ As opposed to what, one might ask? Shh, no, that doesn't matter right now. Bruno had been in the midst of trying and failing to do a mid-air sit-up to grab at the rope when Jim arrived but on telling him the rope's hold on him might last longer without all this panic and motion, uh.

Yeah, yeah, Bruno opts to old still immediately, letting the swinging from before slowly, ever so slowly come to a stop. From there, at the end of his literal rope, he looks up at Jim the best he can from that angle, pale and wide-eyed with fear. ]

Do. Do you think you can, uh, pull me, um, up? Like. Soon. Very soon... or... I dunno, maybe no rush, I don't. I don't want to be pushy or. Or anything.

looting

[nastycat]

[Izutsumi was always up for a spot of looting, or just straight-up stealing. It was just very easy for her to pick up things and wander off without really thinking of it. Sneaking also came naturally to her, it was part of the reason the bossy lady made her go through ninja training.

Then the crashing interrupted her prowling. Whose died?

She padded over, ears perked forward as she peered into the building. Then she clambered down, any movement? No? She's going to pick his pockets.]

[fallingsand]

[ What Izutsumi will find is that same twitchy, mousy little man from before, the one who drew the rat, and he's laying sprawled across the floor of a haphazardly leaning ruin of a building. Bits of wooden boards lay around him, so it might be that something overhead gave and dumped him down here.

There's no movement apart from the barest rise and fall of his chest, so, not dead. Well, extra dead, considering where they are, but when she moves to pick his pockets, she'll find...

Uh, nothing. Sorry, kid, he's super poor. That rifling about him does stir him into motion, though, and he opens his eyes and makes a grab for the wrist of that wayward hand searching his pockets. ]

Uh. [ What. He looks at her, staring, confused. ] What... what are you doing?

[nastycat]

[Damn, this guy has less money than she does. Then she looks at the face and realises it's the rat guy and...nah, she doesn't regret trying to mug his corpse. Especially when he turns out to not be a corpse.

The grab made her jump back, lips curling back to hiss for a split second. Meeting his stare with her own. She wasn't ashamed or anything. She just wasn't sure how to answer. ]

...Looking for money.

[fallingsand]

[ Bruno pulled his hand back quickly at the jump, at that cat-like response. Goodness, she really was part cat, wasn't she? Because he does recognize her from the netherwork, too. It was hard to forget someone with cat ears... ]

Oh. You were... [ Ha ha, she was trying to loot his corpse. This was awkward. He cleared his throat and slowly pushed himself up to sit. ] Sorry? I guess? I. I don't really have any. Anything much, really.

[ Again with the apologies, although this was far weirder than before. Who apologizes for having nothing worth stealing? ]

festive

[prozaic]

[shalem doesn't come out here to the barrens often, but he's observant enough to notice when a building is looking slightly better than its neighbours. and then just a little better than the last time he was around the area. isn't that enough to be interesting?

or suspicious.

but the serpent-man has discovered that it's more homey than what he was thinking, especially when he smells the scent of burning wood on the wind, and spies a man puttering around through the window. now curiosity has taken hold of shalem, even if he knows he should just give the man some privacy to work on his home. he dares to venture closer, tugging his shield onto his back as he ventures towards the house, leaving his hands free. he raises one in greeting.]

You're the one who has been remodeling this place, I see. [he wraps his tail around one leg so it doesn't drag around on the ground.]

Is the city... not to your liking?

[fallingsand]

[ Bruno pauses even before Shalem says anything, noticing the movement of someone approaching, and he can't help but eye this stranger with a scaly tail and long ears warily. This isn't exactly the friendliest of settings, out here in the barrens, but some of that wariness drains away when the serpent-man raises a hand in greeting. ]

I'm only fixing it up a little. [ He says, glancing up at the dilapidated chapel. ] It's not that I don't like the city, it's just I'm... not used to that many people, I guess? Or, well, cities at all, actually.

[prozaic]

Oh? [that's entirely the opposite for shalem, but then again he knows some people who can get overwhelmed by rhodes island's hustle and bustle, when he was still alive.]

Would it be the noise? Speaking from experience... Stygia has far less of it than the other cities I have been to.

Perhaps you're from a much smaller settlement?

looting

[deushexmachina]

[The crack echoed from the empty windows of the building, and every impulse in Jayce's nervous system stuttered. He waited a moment—the thud an unmistakable smash of flesh to floor—before taking a deep breath and gingerly peeking around the decaying threshold of a shadowy door.]

... Hello? [He ignored the quiver in his own voice.] Someone there? [Better a someone than a something. Jayce felt the clutch of his stomach drop; he knew he shouldn't have been walking out this way, alone.]

[fallingsand]

[ Jayce doesn't get an answer, per se, but he does get a reaction. In a way, that is an answer, isn't it? As he peeks through the door of the ruined building, he'll be met with darkness, more darkness, and then, lurching out of said darkness, a small man in a billowing green ruana. He's in a hurry to get out of that same building and he'll not only shove by Jayce, he'll also make a point to try and snatch up one of his arms and yank him along away from it. ]

D-don't go in, that's, we, we gotta go! C'mon!

[ And judging from the creak of wood and the suddenly far too near growl that issues forth from the building Bruno had just fled, it isn't without good cause that this strange man is suddenly trying to drag Jayce along in the dash to be somewhere else as quickly as possible. ]

[deushexmachina]

[The words jolt through him, the denoted panic, the anxiety rush. Jayce stumbled back a few steps; his arm entrapped, the man pulling him. He heard the groaning, the splintering of wood, and barely had a catch to glimpse behind him as he feet kicked into gear. He fled with Bruno.]

Was that growling? [Syllables moving with step, hushed and bewildered.] Are you okay?

festive

[theorems]

[Viktor isn't one prone to long walks. It's physically cumbersome, and in a place he's unfamiliar with, it can be outright dangerous to do. But the melancholy of the season struck something within him, and he finds himself heading down a series of paths he never tread before. Just as regret for such a long journey was starting to hit him, there's a chapel, looking and smelling inviting. First instinct is of course, to think this is a trap of some sort. The world is cold and unforgiving, why would something like this exist?

Curiosity gets the better of him, along with some strangely foreign thought that... an approach wouldn't be unwelcome?

Odd.

Still a good dozen feet away, as he approaches he notices someone outside, hanging up more decorations. A familiar green poncho. Is it...?]

Bruno?

[fallingsand]

[ Considering where he's decided to hole up for the time being, one might think he'd be more alert, at least enough to notice someone prodding their way through the rocks and rubble towards where he is. He does notice, though, only seconds before Viktor says his name. He's already turning to look when he does but that doesn't help his surprise.

Of all the people he'd expect to come wandering out this way, Viktor didn't make the list, and yet his surprise melts swiftly enough into a gladness to see, well, someone he's at least familiar with. ]

Uh, yeah, it's me. [ He turns back quickly to finish hanging up the last bit of marigolds on the windowsill before stepping away from decorating to go walk over to Viktor instead. ] What are you doing out here? Kind of a far walk, isn't it?

[theorems]

It is. Too lost in thought.

[And then his feet led him here. At least with this new cane, it wasn't as cumbersome to wander so much, and the smile would indicate he doesn't seem to mind the detour much either.]

Do you live here?