Noël Christenbell/Salt Lothrick (
saltysanta) wrote in
theianlogs2017-09-23 09:48 pm
Entry tags:
Clean Up and Chill: The Religious Edition [OPEN]
Who: Noël Christenbell and you
When: September 23--and possibly all the way until September 30, depending on when you show up during the cleaning process
Where: The Cathedral
What: Noël discovers the one thing that could convince him that Theia really is his home, and proceeds to tackle restoring the cathedral himself like a stubborn butt.
Warnings: Angst, possible language, possible graphic descriptions of violence?
Take These Broken Wings
Noël never had liked churches. They were hollow and meaningless displays of fancy at best, and gaudy monuments of idiocy at worst--why did God need such elaborate houses, and so many of them, when so many people froze and starve on the streets? Why did people work so hard to make worship beautiful, when they ignored how ugly the rest of the world was? Why did God deserve such slavish devotion, when He allowed--no, made! Wasn't He supposed to guide all things to happen according to a plan of His own design?--such terrible things to happen? Even if they had sometimes relied on charity from the church to live, he was convinced that the whole thing was rotten through and through; he didn't believe in God, and he didn't like churches.
The cathedral was an obvious landmark, obvious enough that Noël had actually been avoiding it at first. But there was no sense in giving it a wide berth forever, not when he couldn't even get to the building beyond the scorched debris that surrounded it, anyway. Noël was skirting around it when he saw a chillingly familiar shape in the distance, near the gate to the graveyard: a mighty tree, thick trunk twisting and spiraling up into the heavens, broad limbs spread to throw a wide ring of shade against the late morning sun. For a moment, he froze completely as he stared, unable to breathe, heart and lungs squeezing so tightly in his chest it felt as though they would burst. He approached slowly, step by reluctant step, unwilling to believe--but the closer he got, the more strongly he could feel the presence of the spirit inside the tree.
There was no mistaking it. It was him. "Charles--"
Something inside him broke, suddenly and completely. Noël crumpled as though he was a puppet with cut strings, dropping his cane and sinking to his knees in the crook of the tree's roots. The trunk was far too big to get his arms around, so he simply clutched the roots and held on for dear life, pressing his face into the bark to muffle choked sobs.
Kyrie Eleison
He hated Christmas, and yet somehow, he'd become a Santa Claus. He hated churches, didn't even believe in God--and yet somehow, now he was diligently cleaning up the cathedral grounds and building. Why did he get into situations like this?
Because he had to, he had no other choice. Because this, apparently, really was his home after all. Because..... somehow, it felt right. He couldn't let Charles grow in the midst of such tragedy and devastation.
Noël can be found working doggedly at his tasks not only the entire day, but for days after, possibly even a week or longer. At first, he's clearing the grounds as well as he can, freezing and shattering pieces of debris that are too large to be moved as a whole, and shuttling it all out to where it won't be in the way. The overgrown grass and weeds are far, far easier to deal with; every sharp swing of his cane is accompanied by a flare of power, and biting, icy blasts of wind rush forth to slice through the unruly tangles of plant life. The encroaching monsters make the work considerably more hectic, but this time, instead of simply retreating to his house and waiting it out like he does at night, he stands his ground to fight.
Later in his labors, once he's able to get into the cathedral itself, the work is significantly more domestic. There's dust and cobwebs to be swept away, blood and grime to be scrubbed out, wreckage to be removed, broken furniture and gouged floors and walls to try and repair as best he can, disarrayed furniture to be put back in place, items gathered to replace anything ruined beyond repair..... He might even repaint the outside of the building, if he can find a tall enough ladder and some paint.
It's a tremendously big job for one person, even if he tackles it over such a long period of time. Perhaps you've come to help him, or maybe just tolaugh and watch? When do you find him, and what will you do?
When: September 23--and possibly all the way until September 30, depending on when you show up during the cleaning process
Where: The Cathedral
What: Noël discovers the one thing that could convince him that Theia really is his home, and proceeds to tackle restoring the cathedral himself like a stubborn butt.
Warnings: Angst, possible language, possible graphic descriptions of violence?
Take These Broken Wings
Noël never had liked churches. They were hollow and meaningless displays of fancy at best, and gaudy monuments of idiocy at worst--why did God need such elaborate houses, and so many of them, when so many people froze and starve on the streets? Why did people work so hard to make worship beautiful, when they ignored how ugly the rest of the world was? Why did God deserve such slavish devotion, when He allowed--no, made! Wasn't He supposed to guide all things to happen according to a plan of His own design?--such terrible things to happen? Even if they had sometimes relied on charity from the church to live, he was convinced that the whole thing was rotten through and through; he didn't believe in God, and he didn't like churches.
The cathedral was an obvious landmark, obvious enough that Noël had actually been avoiding it at first. But there was no sense in giving it a wide berth forever, not when he couldn't even get to the building beyond the scorched debris that surrounded it, anyway. Noël was skirting around it when he saw a chillingly familiar shape in the distance, near the gate to the graveyard: a mighty tree, thick trunk twisting and spiraling up into the heavens, broad limbs spread to throw a wide ring of shade against the late morning sun. For a moment, he froze completely as he stared, unable to breathe, heart and lungs squeezing so tightly in his chest it felt as though they would burst. He approached slowly, step by reluctant step, unwilling to believe--but the closer he got, the more strongly he could feel the presence of the spirit inside the tree.
There was no mistaking it. It was him. "Charles--"
Something inside him broke, suddenly and completely. Noël crumpled as though he was a puppet with cut strings, dropping his cane and sinking to his knees in the crook of the tree's roots. The trunk was far too big to get his arms around, so he simply clutched the roots and held on for dear life, pressing his face into the bark to muffle choked sobs.
Kyrie Eleison
He hated Christmas, and yet somehow, he'd become a Santa Claus. He hated churches, didn't even believe in God--and yet somehow, now he was diligently cleaning up the cathedral grounds and building. Why did he get into situations like this?
Because he had to, he had no other choice. Because this, apparently, really was his home after all. Because..... somehow, it felt right. He couldn't let Charles grow in the midst of such tragedy and devastation.
Noël can be found working doggedly at his tasks not only the entire day, but for days after, possibly even a week or longer. At first, he's clearing the grounds as well as he can, freezing and shattering pieces of debris that are too large to be moved as a whole, and shuttling it all out to where it won't be in the way. The overgrown grass and weeds are far, far easier to deal with; every sharp swing of his cane is accompanied by a flare of power, and biting, icy blasts of wind rush forth to slice through the unruly tangles of plant life. The encroaching monsters make the work considerably more hectic, but this time, instead of simply retreating to his house and waiting it out like he does at night, he stands his ground to fight.
Later in his labors, once he's able to get into the cathedral itself, the work is significantly more domestic. There's dust and cobwebs to be swept away, blood and grime to be scrubbed out, wreckage to be removed, broken furniture and gouged floors and walls to try and repair as best he can, disarrayed furniture to be put back in place, items gathered to replace anything ruined beyond repair..... He might even repaint the outside of the building, if he can find a tall enough ladder and some paint.
It's a tremendously big job for one person, even if he tackles it over such a long period of time. Perhaps you've come to help him, or maybe just to

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