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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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.

[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.]

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. ]

[ 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. ]

[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.

[ 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?

[A humored chuckle escapes Augustine once he catches the man's gaze. He smiles up at the little human before turning his attention back towards the old altar. If this church was truly a place of worship, then which deity did the practitioners prayed to? That's the question plagues him as he gently runs his finger against the dusty surface.

This place hasn't seen a practitioner in years but why? Why leave this place abandoned like this for so long? He lets out a thoughtful hum as he examines the altar for any notable clues. However, he pauses momentarily when the mousy man from the balcony speaks.]

Not particularly.

[He answers before glancing up again. His fierce red gaze softens somewhat once he sees that look of worry upon the mortal's face.]

Ah, forgive me for barging in like this. Curiosity and all that.

(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?

[ 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?

Edited 2022-10-09 21:59 (UTC)

[ If he were to ask Bruno, he'd likely make the guess that it was from Earth. It was familiar enough. It felt familiar, anyway. There wasn't much in the way of holy symbols left, so the best he could rely on was pieces that made sense to him. Admittedly, other places might use similar setups, similar seating, and window shapes and altars, so... truly, it could have been anything, anyone.

But regardless of the original purpose, he liked it enough to remain when he had stumbled across it. ]

Ah, that's... is that all?

[ But what the chapel had originally been for is neither here nor there. What is here, right now, is that Augustine has offered an apology for wandering in and that alone seems enough to put some of Bruno's worries at ease. Nerves fade some, his shoulders become less tense and hunched, and he moves a step closer to the railing of the balcony, coming more into view with his candle held aloft. ]

That's, uh. No, that's fine. I don't mind. I'm just surprised anyone else is out here. Er... are you... [ Of course, now that he's trying to get a better look at Augustine, some things seem off about the other man. ] Hang on, are you purple?

[ As subtle as always, apparently. Good job, Bruno. ]

[ 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?

[ 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. ]

That's all.

[He reiterates while looking for other interesting thing to gaze upon. It's a shame that the stain-glass windows nearby are broken. Even under the dull lights the glass glimmers somewhat in rosy warm hues. This church must've been a beautiful sight to behold in decades past. It's truly a shame to see it in such disrepair. Augustine was about to comment about their beauty until the squirrely man above comments regarding his complexion. It's then that he glances back at him with his brow arched high.]

One minute I'm purple and the next I'm blue. [He lets out a dramatic sigh while resisting the urge to roll his eyes.] It seems you mortals cannot decide what color I am.

[A slight smirk forms upon his lips briefly as an idea comes to mind. He strolls towards the balcony with a playful hop in his step before suddenly outstretching his red leathery wings high above his head. Yes, those are wings. Demonic looking webbed wings that are red on the outside and a purplish-blue on the inside. The inner color of his wings nearly match his skin tone but are a few shades deeper in hue.]

What do you think? Purple?

...

(the gears, they turn and turn.)

Do you think so? I don't know, (jonas tosses drywall into a neat pile by the entrance and dusts his hands off in a series of claps. throwing a curious look over his shoulder at bruno, he lifts his shoulders in a helpless shrug.) Set seemed pretty into the idea. It was, like, in a "you're my responsibility, Jonas" kind of way.

(mimicking set is highly unflattering, for jonas gives him an exaggeratedly low, dopey voice that sounds nothing at all like the real deal.)

It's gonna sound crazy, but he's an Egyptian God. Have you met him yet?

[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.]

[ As if he hadn't already been on edge before... The sudden real of demonic wings has Bruno giving a strangled kind of gasp and he immediately scrambles back from the edge of the balcony, only to trip over his own feet in the process of retreating so quickly. There's a thud from above when he hits the floor and the candle clatters out of his grip, going dark from the abrupt drop. ]

... oh no, oh no, where'd it... where'd it go... oh geez, this isn't... [ He has to roll over and feel around the dark, trying to find the candle again. Raising his voice, he calls back, although his tone is clearly wrought with fear, ] I. I don't know! You. You can be whatever color you want, Señor Demon! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. To.

[ To offend him? Was he offended? Did demonic beings get offended over whether they're purple or blue? ]

Wh... yes? Yes, I do think so!

[ Jonas! Jonas, that's weird! Like, suspiciously weird rather than harmlessly weird like Bruno happened to be. Bruno leaves off debrushing the place and rubs his hands down the cloth of his ruana, wincing faintly as fabric ran over where little thorns had pricked at his fingers. ]

I mean, first of all, if he's really an Egyptian God... [ And oh boy, does Bruno sound doubtful. ] Why would he be in purgatory? And. And second, why would he take responsibility for you? Is he, like, expecting something? In return?

[ 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?

Are you well...?

[Wait a minute, why does he sound so close?

By the time Bruno finds the candle, Señor Demon is leaning down before him with a worried gleam within those strange red eyes. While he's not confused by the reaction, Augustine does feel a little guilty for scaring the poor man nearly half to death. He was just having a bit of fun, that's all. Most people really can't decide if he's either purple or blue but he suspects that's because everyone interprets color differently.]

There's no need to fret. [He lets out a sigh as he politely backs away.] I'm not going to hurt you.

[ 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.

(idling, he never truly keeps still. his anxiety might as well form a layer just beneath his skin for all the fidgeting he performs, which is why cigarettes come in handy. smoking in a chapel, however, is blasphemous.

so, jonas settles on shifting his weight from one leg to the other.)

Huh. Uh, you've got a pretty solid point, actually, but, like, I saw his fighting moves. It really seems like he's legit. (an egyptian god in purgatory—maybe that is something he should ask set about.) Apart from that, we kind of helped each other out in the Shadowlands. I know it sounds weird, but it's actually...

(feeling a little bit lame, he reaches down to better position his foot on a too-large piece of drywall, snapping it against the sole of his shoe.)

... nice, I guess. It feels safer to have somebody that strong watching my back. A couple people have offered to look out for me. Have you met anybody like that yet?

[ If only Jonas had started with the Shadowlands part, Bruno's worries may have abated before even beginning. When he mentions it now, though, after the fact, it still helps. Bruno backs off the judgment a little, the idea of Set being some random person looming out of the shadows to do... whatever. Nefarious things? Well, regardless, that idea, at least, gets swept away.

It's not as if Jonas knows Bruno any better than that, now that he thinks of it. ]

Oh. You... hm. I guess that's not as, uh. Weird, then.

[ Bruno comments awkwardly, as per usual, and decides to give the thornbushes a break. He moves on to another task, leaving Jonas to manage the fallen drywall while he goes to start clearing dust and cobwebs, trash, and other refuse off of the altars near the foremost point of the chapel. ]

I mean, it's still kinda questionable how he'd just be able to handle everything. It's not like he could've showed up here with, like, stuff. [ Resources, money, you know, stuff. ] Guess he just really believes in himself...

[ Now that would be nice, believing in one's self, and Bruno's about to get another reminder of that lack in himself when Jonas mentions Set isn't the only one to offer to watch Jonas' back. It's nice, actually. It means he has friends, right? Which is good for Jonas.

Bruno, however... He pauses in picking up some drywall that had landed on part of the altar; it had cracked some of the wood before crumbling from the impact if the angle of the damage and the way the drywall scattered says anything. It's a small thing, that pause, but it's there, that moment he sorts through the variety of people he's met and— ]

Me? [ He carries on tidying up the altar after that. ] Oh, no, definitely not. I mean, I'm fifty. If I can't take care of myself by now, it'd be kind of hopeless, right?

[ He finds the candle and triumph! Only it's a very short-lived triumph. Bruno hasn't even the time to dig through his pockets for another match before Augustine speaks from startingly nearby. Looking up, he can make out the general shape of a figure looming overhead and, of course, those eyes. ]

Jesus!

[ Bruno jumps. Somehow, even prone on the floor, he manages it. It's a talent, really. This is followed by him rolling over and scooting away, putting a foot or two more between him and his strange guest before he feels free to let out a breath and push himself back up to sit, at least, although, in this dark, he dares not stand. ]

You... you're not? [ It's pathetic, isn't it? The way he panics, although those words are only posed in Bruno's own head, from his Shadow to himself, always there to remind him of this, how frightened and pointless he must seem. ] Ah... um. Sorry, it's just. That was. I really did not expect that. The. The wings.

[ Nor would he have ever expected the rest of what Augustine happened to be. He wasn't even sure if the man was one of the Restless or one of the more local denizens of the Shadowlands. ]

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.

[It's times like this he wishes he could use some sort of glamour to hide his ghoulish appearance. While he's quite gifted in the dark arts, there's still a number of feats he cannot do.]

Jesus? [He arches his brow a little in confusion when the man shouts some random name at him. Maybe this "Jesus" fellow is a friend of his? Possible. Maybe he scared the man so badly that he's hallucinating? That is also possible.] Oh, no. I'm Augustine, not...Jesus.

[Augustine lets out a hesitant chuckle as he backs away towards the balcony's railing. He wants to give this strange fellow enough room so he won't feel cornered here. It's just as he said, he doesn't mean Bruno any harm.]

Honestly, not many do. I used to be able to hide my wings but my magic isn't very potent here.

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(open) just a plain and simple chapel

clean-up.

Clean-up!

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Looting

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looting

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