logs | (open) just a plain and simple chapel

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(open) just a plain and simple chapel

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. ]

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Much, much smaller. Think like... maybe two-hundred people? At least? And, uh, pretty isolated, too, out in the mountains. Real little place.

[ A real little and very nice place, sure, but a far cry from even the smallest of cities out there. ]

[small and remote. no wonder.]

Ah, I see-- I understand. [then shalem looks around again, droopy eyes sharpening as he takes in the more dangerous features of the barrens in the distance.]

But, I must ask... Are you sure you're safe here? There are rumours, and they are why I'm not unarmed as I wander this place.

[ Is he safe here? That's a very good question and Bruno pauses, looking back and up at the chapel. It hardly seemed the most secure of places, that much was true. ]

Uh, well, I'm not sure. I mean, someone already walked in and scared the heck out of me, then told me I needed locks... which is... I mean, it's good advice, so. [ But whoever that had been hadn't murdered him on the spot, which is good! ] Otherwise, I don't really know, I guess?

[ His gaze drifts away from his current makeshift home and back to Shalem again. ]

But it's free, which is about the only real good thing it has going for it.

[shalem's brow furrows-- well, that's not concerning at all.

(it's definitely concerning.)]

I believe it would be best for you to at least have a fence. A good, sturdy one. [electric fences are quite effective at keeping random looters out, but that's impossible here.

then he adds, just for good measure:] With spikes at the top for safety.

A fence... with...

[ Oh, Shalem, no. If Bruno were more security-minded — outside, of course, having sugar and salt to line the windows and doorways, you know, for supernatural threats — then maybe he would agree but all he can do is stare a moment, then say, ]

I think it might be hard to gather enough wood to build a fence all the way around, uh. I mean. It's a chapel, so it has a kind of fence? Around the courtyard out front? But that's kind of falling apart, too... I guess those are spiky...

[when you have a mind as paranoid as shalem, many, many things about this security situation could be improved. really, with his mind and sensibilities, he would rather up and find another place to live, nevermind his personal comfort. but... this is not his living space.]

... Has anyone assisted you? [has anyone even offered? shalem has to wonder.]

Restoring a house is already enough of a task for a team, let alone someone by their lonesome. If someone were to help, there would be a better fence soon enough.

A little? There's someone who comes out to help me clean the place up sometimes but we aren't really prepared to start building anything extra yet.

[ It's at least some relief to know that he's made one friend. Kind of? Is Jonas a friend? Bruno supposes he must be if he's choosing to spend any time around him at all and that's enough to help Bruno summon up a slight smile. It's a nice enough thought. ]

I stay up in the balcony of it and that takes some climbing to get up to, so it's not like I'm going to be in immediate danger or anything. [ Until something with wings busts in, anyway. ] Uh, would you... like to come in? I have some water boiling up for tea and... y'know, some food.

[ He'll wave towards the fore of the chapel, where the doors would be. If Shalem wants to inspect the premises for safety himself, well, Bruno might do well to be less trusting but the strange man doesn't seem bad. ]

Ah, tea... [that? that tone is sheer longing, accompanied by the wiggling of his tail. oh, he misses tea. he hasn't had any since dying, and it's more than a caffeinated drink to wake him up in the morning.

(he drinks coffee to wake up anyway.)]

If I am not imposing, I would love some tea. And I could brainstorm some solutions for your security problems.

Oh, no, no, you're not. It's been ages since I've had, uh, company to share anything with, actually, so c'mon.

[ Bruno will wave Shalem along to follow him, leaving off from the decorating for now. He'll head for the front, past what little fencing there is around the front of the chapel, and push open one of the large front doors to let himself and his new guest in.

Inside has been tidied up as well as one could hope for. There are still cracks in the floor and drywall missing from the walls and the ceiling. The pews have been pushed into some semblance of order once more, although a good half of them are broken or missing chunks in some places. The space between the pews and the altars at the front of the chapel is where he's set up for cooking or, well, as much as can be. There's an old-looking camp stove being used in place of a campfire and a metal teapot boiling away on top of it. ]

Uh, there's only pews for seating right now so just... pick wherever you want to sit? I'll get the tea made. It's that really nice stuff the festival, only, y'know, it isn't really as potent out here for some reason.

[the serpent-man walks with an added pep in his step at the prospect of tea, even with the massive shield on his back. what's a bit of weight to the prospect of his favourite drink? though the moment he steps inside, he looks around and around. it's his first time in such a place.

shalem would like to imagine that this church is what the churches at iberia could look like, if the people left their beloved establishments to the mercy of the elements. Perhaps in more remote locations...

then again, what would a man lacking in religion know?]

I don't mind if it's not as strong. But truly... would it not be preferable this way? [shalem rests his shield against a pew, the metal displacing dust, but the man himself sits delicately on wood that hasn't rotted away yet, lacing his fingers together in his lap, tail raised in a gentle S behind him.]

Tea is tea, and I am utterly grateful.

Mm, depends on the tea, doesn't it? Like, some should be real strong and others not and, uh, but this stuff... it was super calming way back at the festival but not so much here.

[ Normally, Bruno would offer coffee, but as he's lacking in that, the tea would have to be it. He'd haggled for it in spite of the warning that it would be weaker this far out, purely on the fact that firstdawn tea had been a lifesaver when he'd otherwise have freaked out when visiting the city proper.

It tasted good regardless so Bruno couldn't complain too much. He bustles about where the kettle is, rustling up some cups and a little metal strainer to pour the tea through, catching the boiled remnants of leaves and other herbs as he poured out two cups for them. ]

Not that it's bad or anything, that is. Just, y'know. Weaker.

Edited 2022-10-30 00:24 (UTC)

Like I said, tea is tea. [now that's a reverent tone from the serpent if anyone ever heard one, his tail curling and uncurling as he eagerly waits.

it's tea, he loves it no matter what.]

This, you won't find a single complaint out of me.

Alright, alright, tea is tea.

[ At least it's nice not to have a picky guest. He sets the kettle and strainer aside once the tea's been poured and he'll turn back around with the cups to join Shalem on the same pew he's taken a seat at. He'll offer one cup of tea to him. ]

There you go, Mister... um. Snake... guy? [ Okay, right, that's a little awkward. He sure doesn't know this guy's name. ] I'm Bruno, by the way.

Shalem. My name is Shalem. [he cradles the cup with both hands, grateful for the drink... and leeching warmth from it.]

Thank you for the cup. It's delightfully warm.

You're welcome!

[ And once he's seated himself and taken a sip of tea as well, he'll try to ask this in the most upbeat and, with hope, least offensive-sounding way as possible, because... ]

So, Shalem, have you, uh, always been a. A snake guy? Or...?

It's your first time seeing someone from my world, then. [well, it's not as if there's a large selection, it's either himself or rosa in this afterlife.]

I was born with these traits, yes. I'm merely one in a whole race of people-- Pythia, we're called. And there are other races as well. Perro, Vulpo, Feline... We're not quite like you, with your ears and lack of a tail.

¿Un perro?

[ A dog? That word leapt out at him considering the language it was in. Vulpo was a mystery, Feline was clearly cats, and Perro... ]

That means they're dogs, right? Dog people?

A number of them have floppy ears and a tendency to wag their tails, yes.

[then he raises one finger.]

But please... we are still people. Please refer to us as people who resemble animals that you know, first and foremost.

...wh... oh! R-right! Sorry? Sorry. I didn't. I didn't think that you weren't people, really, it's just "perro" is... that's Spanish? That's what I normally speak and. I, uh.

[ He's not sure how they're all communicating easily, actually, since that's also the only language he knows. Language of the dead, perhaps? Weird, so weird. ]

I wouldn't know. Languages are not my specialty. [which is wrong, he knows a number of languages, learned by traveling and picking it up from other people, and listening to his coworkers speak to peers from the same homeland. he could probably do better than many tourists in certain nations.]

And in any case, the name of the language you used is unknown to me-- again, differences in world.

But... I understand. Sometimes you just want to hold onto something familiar, right?

[ Bruno sighs into his tea as he lifts it up for a drink. Yeah, yeah... ]

It's hard not to want to, right? Everything here is so new and different.

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(open) just a plain and simple chapel

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