(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

[immortalrose]

You know how to do that? [He questions with a hint of genuine intrigue within his tone.] Truly? Are you skilled at carpentry because if so---

[Augustine just might have a job for Bruno, especially since he honestly could use as much help as he can get to renovate his home here in the Barrens. He managed to have some luck here and there but scrounging scraps is difficult. Poor Augustine lacks the necessary funds to purchase new wares, especially furniture. He's saving all his earnings for the little florist shop he plans to open by the Harbor.]

Hrm?

[The dhampir blinks his eyes owlishly once Bruno asks the following. He lets out a thoughtful hum as he mulls over the question. What constitutes as appetizing to him?]

That's a rather difficult question to answer. [He mutters quietly as he taps his chin.] I would never prey upon the sick or infirm, the same for children and pregnant individuals. That is a taboo within my culture, very taboo.

[A vampire with morals, fancy that.]

Therefore, I typically target...able-bodied adult males and females above a certain age. The healthy sorts, honestly.

[fallingsand]

[ The healthy sorts, huh? Well then, that... absolutely does not count Bruno out. That's a little worrying. ]

O-oh, then, uh, definitely not me. Not healthy at all. Very much an insomniac, right? And. And absolutely bad luck. I'm sure that makes me taste awful.

[ Therefore Augustine should not eat him, yeah, that sounds reasonable, haha. Anyway, Bruno is quick to clear his throat as he turns to wander back to his own previous seat, the chair with the backing broken off. He doesn't sit immediately and turns his attention to that instead. His hand rests lightly on part of the broken frame. ]

And I don't know if skilled is the word I would use. I've had to figure out how to repair and cobble stuff together on my own for the past ten years, so I've taught myself how to do enough, I guess? Enough to get by. I think I would have liked being an actual carpenter, though...