(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

[theorems]

Yes. I believe so.

[Viktor says quietly, but without much hesitation.]

I didn't know at the time, but when the conversations arose about soulmates...

[Like symptoms to an illness, it lined up. The explanations others had, the mentions of connection. The emotions that happen so suddenly, as well as the tranquility from seeing Bruno at all- what other explanation is there?

Viktor looks away, still holding his cup but running his long fingers along the bottom edge of it. The barest anxious movement.]

There may be a way to undo it.

[fallingsand]

[ Bruno doesn't even want to imagine how awful it's been being connected to him of all people, the jumpy guy, the one that's always getting frightened or feeling anxious or miserable or... nothing good, never anything good, right?

Viktor brings up there maybe being a way to undo it and it takes every ounce of control to not deflate right there at the thought. He tries to stifle that emotion now that he's pretty sure Viktor can pick it up. ]

Oh, well, I... guess, yeah. If. If you want that and I'd definitely get it if you did. I mean, I wouldn't want to be my soulmate, either, y'know?

[theorems]

[He picks up on it, even without the help of their connection.]

Not because of you, Bruno.

[That's said easily enough. It's the rest of the explanation that gets stuck in his throat.]

Being tied to me without knowing everything... You will want a way out.

[fallingsand]

I dunno, it kind of sounds like we're both in the same boat there.

[ That could have easily been Bruno's own line, about how knowing everything about him would drive someone away just as easily. He looks up tentatively, only enough to watch Viktor from the corner of an eye. ]

Y'know, the sinking kind. Why do you think I'd be the one who wants out...?

[theorems]

[What flashes through Viktor's mind is brief but overwhelming. The brightest neon purple imaginable, flicking between white and the darkness of the void. Dust scattered on the floor. A thing pulses- the hexcore- spiny and throbbing. All of that in less than a moment. Instinctively, Viktor reaches up to his nostril, feeling to see if any blood is dripping. Not this time.

He isn't sure what Bruno can feel or sense via this connection they have. Does he get full insights, or just emotions? Will he feel the panic and shame and guilt, or be able to have seen that horrible memory himself? The latter is too much to consider. Viktor avoids eye contact.]

You met me at a very strange time in my life.

[fallingsand]

[ Not everything that flashes across Viktor's mind passes on to Bruno but enough of it does. It's the first time he's really felt anything from Viktor himself, often being the "louder" one as far as thoughts and emotions went, and he gives a small start before raising his head the rest of the way to look directly at him. ]

I, uh. Can see that. [ Sort of? But rather than immediate rejection, there's only curiosity and worry, and maybe a little sympathy. His entire life has been a strange time, after all. ] That... purple thing didn't seem too great?

[ But as someone with magic already, the hexcore couldn't be anything but spooky. It gave him a bad feeling even if he only saw it for the barest of a second in his own mind. ]

[theorems]

[No immediate rejection- but he didn't expect it yet. Not at this junction, when so little has been explained. It's tempting to stop here; maybe they can keep this soulmate bond if he never elaborates. But... no. That wouldn't be fair to Bruno. With the fragility of this bond, he has a feeling that if he were to keep secrets, it would shake the foundation of what they have. That could lead to mistrust and to Harrowing, for both of them.

This requires honesty.]

I am a scientist.

[That's where he'll start. Give some background.]

The Hexcore was my most recent experiment. A fusion of magic and life. It has had successes and...

[Viktor sighs, setting his tea on the pew and unfastening a button on his glove- only one glove on his right hand. Slowly he peels it off and hidden beneath the fabric is his hand, but purple and made of stretched skin, tendon-like.]

Failures.

[fallingsand]

[ A scientist! That sounds exciting for all of a moment before he reveals his so-called failures. Or one failure, in particular, and Bruno raises his eyebrows as he looks at Viktor's hand. Purple and stretched, similar to the brief glimpse of this Hexcore he'd caught.

Bruno, too, sets aside his tea and reaches out to carefully take Viktor's hand in his own for a closer inspection. Perhaps he should have asked but... he doesn't know. He should probably be fearful of it but he can't find it in himself to be. ]

Does it hurt?

[theorems]

[Viktor stalls for a moment as Bruno takes his hand without question or pause. It's not the first time Viktor's taken this glove off and experimented with the sensitivity of it, so it's unsurprising that the feel of Bruno's touch it is dulled compared to touch to his real skin.]

The opposite. It functions normally, but I lack most sensation in it.

[fallingsand]

[ It helps that it's Viktor. If there had been a reason to be afraid of it, he would have felt that through that connection, right? But there isn't anything and so he doesn't worry about it. ]

That... hm. Might be a bad thing unless you don't have to worry about burning it or. Stuff.

[ If he could hurt his hand and never even realize it... But he won't hang onto Viktor's hand forever. He'll let go after getting that closer look. ]