paixaorpg | If you build it, they will come. [Active/Open]

Entry tags:

If you build it, they will come. [Active/Open]

Character(s): Duma and anyone who shows
Content: Now Duma's advertised his little church, maybe there'll be someone showing up.
Setting: Chapel of St Ibriel. (G8)
Time: Morning
Warnings: Um, religion?

Duma lit candles, in the order he knew to be the right one. He tried not to worry about the possiblity that he was somehow doing this whole thing wrong, but the ritual of lighting and prayer calmed him. He had invited people in, in the hope that whatever burdens they all shared might be lightened.

The flowers were almost outgrown their buckets, but Duma watered them dilligently, although the rose vine reached out and grazed his calf, covering just the tips of the thorns in blood. He put that bucket towards the back, not wanting anyone to stumble into it. A single teardrop hung from the petal of one of the marigolds.
We have much to mourn
The past snuck up on Duma when he didn't want it to. He shook his head to clear it, and opened the door to his slightly dingy little chapel. It wasn't anything like what Ibriel ad made, but it would do.

It was good to be doing something again.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Soma was not, by default, a very religious person. Not in the Christian sense, at least; he had been raised largely in and around the Shinto faith, though he had never felt himself bound to it. He also couldn't be said to have -faith- anymore, what with faith being a belief in something without knowing it was there. He'd lost that innocence several months prior, when he'd found very definite proof that there was, in fact, a Hell.

He was not interested in flowers; while they were a rarity within this city of stone, precious metal and crystal, he knew that there were 'worlds' where one could walk among greenery that weren't terribly difficult to reach, even if they posed unique dangers all their own. Nor was he interested in prayer. No; absolution was his hope, and he had quite a few large things to get off his chest.

As he neared the church, Soma felt a growing uneasiness in his chest, a stirring of something he had thought quelled with the defeat of Chaos. There was -something- here that Dracula was taking a major interest in. Stopping at the door of the chapel, he took several breaths to steady himself, forcing down the Count's influence and calming himself before stepping inside. Forcing himself not to run away screaming.

Duma was as contemplating past while he stared at a candle flame, something he spent more and more time doing at the moment. He was pleased there were things for him to do, but his focus was shaky.

The sound of the door opening stirred him from his thoughts. He stood quickly and looked toward the door, looking frankly at the pale young man who had just entered. Duma bit his lip - something in the visitor wasn't happy.

Setting his wings again and reminding himself that there was no use being nervous, Duma smiled in what he hoped was a welcoming way.

The uneasiness Soma had felt as he approached the chapel coalesced into a cold, hard knot at the sight of the angel rising to face him. He knew there were beings beyond the scope of humanity in this city - he had seen gods, demons, and even a genie in various places on the journals. He had even seen a couple of people claiming to be angels.

Seeing them on a journal screen had not prepared him for meeting one in the flesh.

Again, he fought down the urge to flee. If he had learned anything from his time in Dracula's hellhole of a castle, it was that you never show fear if you want to live. Maybe that didn't apply to the other end of the spectrum, but he wasn't willing to find out just now.

"Are you the one who advertised the services of a church on the message board?" he asked, hoping that his voice would not betray him.

Duma felt the intense uneasiness the young man was feeling, though he didn't imagine he could be the cause of it. In fact he felt a strange duality in the boy, it was a curious proposition.

In answer to Soma's question, he nodded. He reached for a piece of paper which he had written on in his neat copperplate handwriting. Welcome to St Ibriel's. I do not speak, but feel free to talk. I can offer both absolution, and a quiet ear.
He handed this to the young man, feling like he needed a piece of paper that said "Fear not." as well.

Allowing himself to relax a little of the composure he had gathered to himself, Soma slumped a little bit and decided that now might be a good time to sit down. The sudden weakness in his knees helped him right along.

It took him a few moments of sitting there in contemplation to realize that he really had no idea where to begin. A touch of wry humor graced his face for a moment, then he shook off the feeling. "I'm not really sure where to start. Up until a few months before I came here, there wasn't any real need for me to seek out absolution..."

Deciding to take a near-literal leap of faith, Soma made up his mind. "How much do you know about the concept of reincarnation?"

Duma saw the boy lose his balance and reached out quickly to make sure he didn't fall over or faint. He was thankful that Soma seemed fine and not likely to tumble over or run away.

The angel settled himself down a little distance away - close enough to touch the young man's shoulder, but hopefully not so close he was crowding him. Duma's perception of distance was slightly skewed, although he didn't really have a concept of "personal space" he knew that to touch someone was uncomfortable.

How much did he know about reincarnation? A lot. As ruler of hell he knew of spirits who reached a point where they knew themselves to have suffered enough, and had been reincarnated. He knew of spirits who did not come though his gate, instead opting for that other port.

However, he simply wrote on the small piece of paper I understand the concept well. And handed it to Soma, smiling.

Soma read the paper, nodded, and set it aside. "I'll assume you know about possession too, then. What would you say if I were to tell you that one of the most evil individuals who ever walked the face of the earth had found a way to cheat the cycle, retaining all of his memories and powers, by taking a new host body every time he was killed? And that Death itself was complicit in his scheme?"

Duma knitted his eyebrows together. He wasn't sure how you could cheat the "system" of the afterlife, given it wasn't particularly systematic - at least not in the way most people assumed it was. But it was strange to retain one's memories during reincarnation - not even the Endless did that.

He decided that would be an inappropriate way to go about all of this, and instead wrote I am surprised at Death. What I know of her, she is not easily duped

He then squinted at Soma, trying to divine what the young man was feeling. In the end he simply wrote "You are the host".

"I am." It was a painful admission to make, but it was the only thing he could say. "I'm the current host of Dracula's power to rule demons. His soul, what there is left of it, resides within me."

Soma looked up at the ceiling for a moment, considering just how much he should say, how much he was willing to tell an angel of the battle he had fought. Finally he made his decision, lowering his head once more.

"A few months ago, a friend and I were transported to a castle that had been sealed inside a solar eclipse. When we arrived, Dracula's power woke within me, and I was told to seek the throne room to confront destiny. There were many battles along the way, with demons and monsters straight out of nightmares. As I fought them, I became stronger. I absorbed their souls to gain dominance over their powers."

On the outside, Duma merely nodded. On the inside, his head reeled. Dracula was a vampire, an immortal so... Except the boy had fought demons. And Duma knew where the headquarters of Demons was. He had the key to it around his neck. A few months ago... He had been living in hell for twenty years. Had the demons stayed away after Lucifer gave up the rulership of hell? Or had Duma and Remiel let them leave?

A wave of guilt hit the angel and his eyes filled with tears. He couldn't imagine how fractured the young mans soul was. Absorbing the powers of monsters would lead you to become one.

Eventually, his hand shaking a little, he penned the message I am sorry.

"I doubt there's anything anyone up there could have done to stop it," he said after reading the apology. "Except maybe God Himself. And considering He didn't, well... I have to wonder if this wasn't all part of the plan."

Soma shook his head, letting out a bit of a sigh. "I actually ended up on the winning side in that whole ordeal, oddly enough. When I defeated Graham and the power he had usurped flowed into me, I was able to retain my sense of self and confront the corruption head on, with the help of my friends. I'm still myself in here. Mostly. But... I'm also still Dracula."

If an angel could look awkward, Duma looked awkward indeed. He fingered the key around his neck, wondering how it all could have happened. He had no doubt it was part of God,s plan, but... It was not right.

I was not up there. I, along with the angel Remiel, are the God-commanded rulers of hell. It pleases me greatly to know you were not much harmed by you ordeal

Soma had to give Duma a second look at that admission. "Well. That explains a lot," he finally said, then shook off the momentary feeling of bemusement. "I don't know anything about the politics of Heaven and Hell, and I don't think I want to. You're an angel, not a demon - I can tell that much - and so, you're unlikely to have been complicit in this whole mess. Especially not if God Himself gave you the job."

He thought about it for a couple moments longer, then sat up straight. "At any rate, that's the how of it. The why of it is this. The soul of a monster who spent over six hundred years murdering and committing untold numbers of other sins is alive, inside of me. The souls of -demons- are inside of me. What kind of penance can I possibly do for that?"

Duma looked at the candles for a long time as he thought. He was sure that he could perform an exorcism, at least for the demons, however he risked ripping the young man's soul into shreds. That wasn't a risk he was willing to take.

He picked up his pen once more and slowly wrote But have you used the powers of demons to hurt the innocent? Have you killed those who would not harm you? It isn't the creatures who live inside you that stain your soul - Only your choices.

He read the questions one by one, remembering his travails within Dracula's accursed castle. Did his battle against Julius count? Somehow, he doubted it - Julius himself had forgiven him, even then. "No. And I never will, as long as I retain my own free will."

Free will... that was the whole problem, really. As long as he had it, he wouldn't use his abilities to harm the innocent. But there was something inside him that longed to do just that - and it got stronger every time he used those powers. Someday, if he continued to use them, Dracula would overwhelm him.

"I just wish I knew what I was supposed to do with this power. It was sealed away after I escaped the castle, but as soon as I arrived here, it was back again, just as strong as ever."

Duma nodded slowly. He understood a little of what the young man was going through - He had power, and had been shown he could use it... But no. He had not truly fallen yet.

With that in mind he wrote the next note slowly. Free will is what separates you and I. Channel your will into keeping hold of it. And as to the power inside you - Fear it. Respect it. Never assume you are its master, for the darkness knows no master.

As he passed the paper to Soma, trying to convey with his eyes that there was more than he was telling. That he did truly understand.

Soma understood what Duma was trying to tell him, he really did. But it was hard to believe that his own willpower alone could stand against something as old and evil as the soul of Dracula.

...Then again, mankind had been standing against something even older and more evil for a hell of a lot longer than he'd been Dracula's heir. The only real difference here was the power - most of humanity didn't have it. And as seductive as it was, he had already beaten it once.

Having finally seen the devil in the details, Soma found that he was no longer quite so afraid of it. "Putting a face to your enemy makes them much easier to deal with," he said with a wry, somewhat rueful smile. "Thank you. It's not what I was hoping for... but I think you just gave me what I needed."

As Soma spoke, Duma smiled, the first real smile he had given, lighting up his eyes. He was pleased to have made himself understood, even if it felt an awkward way of doing it.

Duma reached out and, only slightly awkwardly touched the young man on the shoulder. He tried to radiate the sense of peace and optimism he was feeling, or at least offer some form of understanding.

Afterward he wrote again - You are welcome here anytime. stay as long as you like.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If you build it, they will come. [Active/Open]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject