etrayalogs | [closed] can we call this bonding?

(although it is not somewhere he recognizes from home, churches like these always have a draw on chrollo. there's dust and debris, chunks of wood on the walls, ditched and lonesome - aside from the flowers. those are small treasures, one of them being the first thing chrollo has robbed in this world, resting in a glass in another building he dwells in.

there's the smell of old benches, and the rays that traverse through the stained glass... what better place for two people enthralled by religion to discuss fate in?

once he hears the footsteps, he turns his head to face him. he has gotten his jacket back, the large saint peter's cross on the back going nicely with the tattoo he no longer hides. his hair is not slicked back, but it is visible due to the middle parting of this bangs - and there's a laugh that escapes him once he sees the wine and the way vincent arrives.)

Did you win?

(respectfully.)

You seem jolly today.

I'd say I won.

[ His chin lifts as he remembers that he told Hank that he wasn't going to tell others what happened. He lifts and lowers his shoulders. Oops. Vincent didn't use his name so it's fine; he just got caught up in the euphoria of strangling someone to unconsciousness that he forgot the promises he made to the victim. ]

When you're sick, you start to think that you're never going to get well.

[ He chimes in response. Pausing, he turns to set the box of wine on one of the arms of the pews that looks somewhat sturdy. ]

So, when you are well again, you get a new zest for life. [ His mouth twists into a smile. He always thinks that his smiles look awkward and ugly, but it may just be his perception of it. ] Anyway, is today the day that you're going to kill me?

[ He scratches his chin as he asks casually, tilting his head back to stare up through the broken roof to the sky. ]

How remarkable. Did he live?

(or, well, whatever that looks like in this place. if his own homeworld has ways to dodge death, he wonders if there are any here, too. post-mortem nen and abilities that could bring someone from the very cusp of the abyss - who knows, not him.

with a single gentle tap, he offers the spot next to him vincent.)

Is it because you were playing in the snow? I did warn you against it.

(however, this is good information; one can get sick here. he should definitely be eating more books from the libraries, see if there is anything that he finds relevant. it has been a tough couple of weeks, since he opened the book to find kortopi's ability missing. he's tossing and turning, filled with wrath over the fact itself and over the fact that he is not aware of what brought it upon him.

needless to say, he hasn't been doing much other than overthinking.)

I could kill you in the blink of an eye, but I find no reason to do it, Vincent.

You don't have to put it like that, Chrollo. And it's rude to strangle and tell -- more than I already have, I mean.

[ Why tell him at all? He supposes it's because he doesn't believe that Chrollo will tell anyone or if he does, what does it matter? He can rationalize it in any way that he likes, and come up with a reason for why he did nothing wrong. ]

You did.

[ Vincent doesn't confirm his suspicions more than that, however.

He walks over to join him where he's sitting. Crossing his legs at the ankles, it's a familiar pose. His head tilts back again to stare up at the ceiling. His eyes roll shortly after he hears that Chrollo can kill him easily. The immediate desire to say: So could a dog and a very determined squirrel. You're not special. But he decides to nod along and accept that his life isn't on the line. ]

Well, lucky me. [ A beat. ] I saw your post about people being dead. I didn't think that the tarot would come true so fast. [ His mouth twists into a little smile as he keeps staring up. ] You don't seem like a man who wants condolences or sympathy, anyway.

Disagree.

(a lot of what he does is very public, that has always been the point. so the spider instills a fear that cannot be beaten, no matter how much one tries - so the mere thought of them makes a person freeze. strangle and tell, vincent, it's great for morale!

his own pose is very bad for one's back, elbows on his knees and a stare forward that is a little emptier than usual, now that he dropped the act of a human. whether he trusts vincent or not is still something he's debating, but he doesn't happen to have a lot of allies in this land that he can discuss much about.

so, bandit's secret comes out, materializes in his hand, closed and ready. he has thoughts, and he is going to need to explain things if he so wishes to have vincent's take on it.)

I found out a while ago. I was refraining from using my abilities as to keep eyes away from me, but it seems they knew it anyway. I want to figure out what happened, so I will act for it. What did your fate say?

You can disagree all you like.

[ Besides, he might not be able to strangle Hank again if he keeps talking about it. Then where would he get his fun? He turns his head to the side to let out a small sigh. With a small glance at Chrollo, he can already tell the man wouldn't let him choke him.

Well, of course, most sane people wouldn't let a person do that, anyway. ]

Huh. [ It's the noise he makes as he sees the book manifest. His eyes narrow at the handprint on the front and he pinches his chin as he leans in to take a closer look. ] I don't like that they know what people can do, but nothing can be done about it. [ He's done what he can to keep Heather safe, anyway. ]

Ah, what did my fate say? [ He chuckles. ] It says in the past that I forged ahead toward my goals with meticulous planning and pragmaticism. Presently, my situation is difficult because I refuse to make social connections or seek emotional comfort. The cards indicated that if I do so I'll experience a time of joy and contentment. [ His shoulders bounce. ]

(fun fact - he would. surprise, vincent.

he sees the curiosity, and he allows for vincent to have a better look. it says clearly on the front BANDIT'S SECRET, a red and black cover along with that white handprint. he won't open it willy-nilly, there is sensitive information in there, but he can look at the cover.)´

I dislike it too. I was hoping they could know who I am, but not what I can do, but it seems both are on the table for them. It means whatever I do must be done with extreme caution.

(but there's a laugh from chrollo, even if it's quiet and small as he points to the wine.)

Is that why you are here? Social connection?

Edited (an oopsie) 2025-01-01 18:33 (UTC)

Interesting.

[ He certainly finds the cover of the book as he says and wonders what else it can do. Probably the ability to kill him within seconds. His head drops as he chuckles to himself; he lifts his hand to press against his nose to stop himself from wheezing out a laugh.

It's not hysteria or fear, but true amusement. ]

Haven't you been living that way already? I'd be disappointed if you weren't.

[ Especially from what he's already seen. ]

No. I thought you finally were going to kill me and thought to reminisce fondly of the last time I was here before I died.

Edited 2025-01-01 18:38 (UTC)

It's a different type of caution. My people are nonexistent to the world's eyes, no one knows we exist as individuals, or who we are personally - just the Spider remains. People who have abilities in my world also keep the ins and outs of what they can do under wraps, for leverage. To have it all laid out for them to see means I have to plan accordingly.

(to be a meteor city resident - even when they try to run any of them through a system, it comes back blank. that's part of the beauty of it, he finds - that the spider is them, they are known, and they certainly exist in a symphony of bloodshed and love. meaning, to exert will and force existence when it had been taken from them, when even the hope of a better future it had been ripped off to the very bone. it's the hardest part to explain, and even as the leader, he's sure other spiders could do a better job at putting this all into words.

he's still trying to explain to himself what it all means. hence why, he loathes this place with his every being.)

There is nothing to gain from killing you, you know. It is certainly a habit of mine, but I enjoy you alive. Have you died in this place?

I guess that means that a lot of people have special powers, then? If you know what a person is capable of, you can plan around it. Makes sense.

[ Makes sense so long as the other person has power, too, of course. As someone without power, it means little to him what a person can do. He has no means to counterattack but he can attempt to have those with power deal with them. The problem is there are few special people in his world. So, his options are limited.

But not here.

He should keep that in mind. ]

That's what I think, too. No one gains anything with my death.

[ Although, he isn't sure if anyone is gaining anything with him alive. No, that's not true; he's doing quite a few favors for people these days which doesn't make him irreplaceable but does mean he has some worth. A net worth of one is still better than zero, after all. ]

Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. [ A beat. ] The answer is "no," though.

It is a small percentage of the world population, but yes. Quite a few.

(not here, vincent. creating alliances with people who can do the impossible seems like a great way to avoid some misfortune, or cause some if they are that type. vincent certainly seems to be.)

You are one of the few like-minded people I have met here, anyway.

(why would he want vincent dead? although like-minded might be a stretch. they just seem to have an understanding, a levelled conversation and thought, even if vincent is much more flippant than chrollo tends to be.)

Is this place yours or do you mean a church in your world?

So, you never get to feel alone with your power, hm?

[ It's not quite sympathetic but also not quite a snide remark. He's seen what's happened to those who are special and what people do to them, anyway. Does he pity them? In some way, yes, but then they grow up. ]

I'm touched you think of me as someone like-minded.

[ Pushing off the seat, he goes to retrieve his box of wine. It was a bit rude of him to set it so far from where they were sitting. Once it is in hand, he walks back to sit next to Chrollo, again; the box plopped between them. ]

This isn't mine. I'm not bringing any place that is mine here. [ He looks around at everything. ] Even if I brought my church, I don't think I could avoid people coming into it. The space wouldn't be sacred anymore because it isn't home, anyway. To bring anything here is to allow it to one day be trampled upon by others.

Keep that in mind, all right? [ A warning, yes, but he's sure Chrollo already knows this. ]

Edited (oops with a sentence) 2025-01-01 20:18 (UTC)

All of us have different skills, so I suppose we do.

(fucking finally, vincent!!

there is no class within chrollo, not when he doesn't need to pretend there is. no glasses and being amongst abandon feels correct, and he sets his feet atop the pew in front of them for comfort, reaching for one of the bottles.)

I do not believe that would be your choice in the end.

(if they want something to be here, it would be here. like them, or the coat he wears, or the places that just appear, all mismatches with one another, but fitting for the theme of several realities mixed into one.)

Where I am from, there is a saying. 'We accept anything you leave here, but do not take anything away from us'. If they brought where I come from here, it would have nothing to offer this world other than burning trash and a place to leave what is no longer wanted. I would gladly accept anyone who walks through the door.

Well, there is that, at least.

[ At least the two of them get to enjoy a box of wine together. No need to worry about whatever persona they have created for themselves. ]

You're kinder than I am, Chrollo. [ Is what he decides on as he unscrews the top of his boxed wine. ] I wouldn't accept anyone who walked through, even if it was burnt trash. I'd destroy it with my own hands before I let anyone else ruin what is mine. [ Grabbing the box, he tips it up to take a deep drink. Some of the wine drips down his chin; he wipes it with the back of his hand. ]

If all they can bring is trash, it is still yours. Don't just let them have it.

(it's easy now to clink the bottles before a few gulps. he's glad to know his vision of vincent was not untrue, they are definitely like-minded.)

You misunderstand. They may come, they may leave whatever they wish and we would care for it, but they may not take.

(he knows vincent is from a cult, so this might as well be their own culture, as meteor city has its own.)

When I was younger, this man from my town ventured out into the world, and he got picked up, and accused of a crime he had not committed. When they saw he had no records of existing, as none of us do, they accused him on the spot, only to find the real culprit after. The thirty-one people who had been involved in it, from the beat cops to the judges and witnesses have all been exploded by thirty-one of us.

You can leave anything here, but do not take anything from us.

(that may explain why chrollo is so damn desperate to understand what is happening at home. something has been taken. a part of him is gone.)

I assume you would do the same.

May not take?

[ He repeats the phrase back thoughtfully and listens to the rest. ]

That is quite some determination. [ He has to tap his box against the bottle. ] We've done something similar to those that attempted to upset our religious order. [ He waves his hand. ] Not something so dramatic. Unfortunately, we have to be quieter about those that have to be removed.

Their deaths are ... newsworthy, of course, to leave a message but explosions are off the table. It's ... [ He rolls his hand in the air. ] ... much more personal than that... sometimes, if we feel like they can come to understand our thinking, we extend our hand that way.

[ He holds his hand out and curls his hand into a fist, until his knuckles turn white, before relaxing. ]

Unfortunately, none of that is something I can do here... but you're right. [ A smile. ] It is similar.

Do you truly believe it was dramatic? I think it was entirely justified.

(though, well. a lot of what he does is dramatic. it's the point. to wreak havoc, chaos, as big as the eye can see.)

Why should you be quiet over it? If it is a message to send, may you send it loud and clear.

(that does not make it less personal.)

Will you stop lying to me now and tell me about the people you have in here? Since we are two peas in a pod.

Being justified and being dramatic are two separate things, in my opinion. [ His head tilts. ] Sorry for not making that clear.

[ He bounces his shoulders. ] My religion faced some ... persecution in the past. We would rather not have to face that, again. [ Somehow, having a doomsday cult that murders people who get in the way of their practices causes Johnny Law to get really mad. ]

We make our messages clear, for certain, but we do not speak for God. We speak only for ourselves and our wishes. [ He points above. ] God has Her doctrine and Her will. This is why we have scripture. [ A beat. ] I don't want you think that we're lunatics ... although, there are some that believe they're speaking for God. [ And he pauses to sneer. ]

Lying to you? [ His eyebrows furrow. ] Ah, you mean those from my world. I wasn't lying to you. None of them are associated with the Order. [ His head tilts to the side. ] Well, one has an association but it's ... complicated. They don't really want the connection at all.

I have no right to think poorly of you.

(to make that very clear.)

Even if you are lunatics, if I were to try and explain again what my doctrine and life are like, you could think the same of me, although I can assure you I am sane and aware. I extend to you that courtesy of assuming you are, too.

(it feels like if anyone might get him in this place, it might be vincent, to the extent he is able to showcase himself anyway.)

I assume the one is Heather. Are you looking to harm her?

[ Vincent presses his lips together into a thin line. His expression shifts to suspicious briefly before he mentally agrees that Chrollo has no right to think poorly of him. In fact, no one does. ]

You're right about that... I am sane and aware. I would say the only lunatics are those that believe themselves to be the voices of the divine. God will choose who their voice will be... to have someone just decide they are because they have powers is lofty delusions.

[ A beat. ] So, thankfully, you don't seem that way. So, regardless of what you say, I know you to be sane, as well.

[ Vincent makes another face when he names Heather. In the few seconds he has to process her name being given, he clicks his tongue and grumbles something under his breath. His eyebrows lift shortly after at the question. ]

No. I'm doing everything I can to keep her safe. Is she saying otherwise?

Although my beliefs can be traced to the scriptures, my motivation and determination are not. Nothing of what I do is worthy of the divine, nor is it for it.

(a backbone, so to speak. he grew up in the church, it being his safe space and where he could develop and grow where nothing does. there is no way it wouldn't affect his thoughts and views.

but, no, that is not the point he brings when he calls out heather.)

No, not really. I made her believe me to be harmless and incompetent, so she could feed me information, so if anything, I believe she was concerned for me rather than herself. I will do my best to keep her safe as well. I am not sure, but I might be a little fond of her, even if she would not like me as I am.

At least you're honest about that... I had to be dying before I heard the truth for a heretic.

[ He runs his tongue over his teeth, glaring at nothing in particularly ahead of them.

The box of wine is tossed back down on the ground. It makes a soft but solid sound as it hits the stone. There's a second he thinks the bag inside might split and spill everywhere, but it seems to remain whole.

Adjusting how he's sitting, he stretches his legs out instead - a similar pose to when they were sitting together before. ]

No, I can't say that she'll like you as you are. [ If Vincent gets along with him, he can imagine Heather will be a little displeased. ] She's been deceived quite a bit in the past so you'll have to broach the topic carefully. I am glad that you're saying you'll do what you can for her... while I am concerned about myself first and foremost, I've devoted quite a bit of my time and effort into her well-being.

While you can kill me in seconds, I can make your life miserable while I live. [ He tilts his head and smiles. ] But since that's not the case, it seems we're both fond and will be working together on looking after her... in our own way.

She is aware I have lied to her, I told her - although it seems like she doesn't believe it completely.

(he did not, in fact, broach the fact carefully. he told her point blank that he had been lying, that he was not, indeed, the person he led her to believe he was. an academic, soft and helpful, a smile and a well-intentioned man. untrue, although the academic part could be true with how knowledgeable he is on a myriad of subjects.)

I will say, you'll have to do a lot of work to make me miserable.

(the man equates being kidnapped and rendered powerless to an afternoon coffee break.)

What is she to you?

I really hoped you were waiting to do a dramatic reveal so I could tell you to be gentle about it.

[ The words sound sympathetic to Heather but the tone is far more casual than it should be. ]

Not to worry. I can be quite determined despite not wanting to overexert myself.

[ Aren't they having fun? ]

Hm? [ Vincent makes a noise first to act as a buffer before answering the question. His head tilts the other way; he pauses to look up through the hole in the church ceiling. Craning his neck, he stares at the sky above. He thinks that it looks overcast. ] Our relationship is complicated, to say the least.

She's not my ward and I doubt she would want to be. She's not an enemy nor a friend. But I don't think I consider anyone my friend. Not even you.

[ Even if they enjoy one another's company and agree with what the other thinks, that doesn't make them friends in his opinion. Why? Because both of them know that if something were to occur beyond their control; they'd find means to kill the other without question. At least, that is the feeling Vincent has.

A pause and nod, as he confirms his belief: ] If something were to happen to make my death worthwhile, you would kill me, right? The same is for me. Of course, I'd have to work harder at it and employ more methods... I still would see it done one way or another.

Edited 2025-01-03 21:04 (UTC)

No. I accidentally ingested some of the tea, so there was no need for me to keep on acting. It is exhausting - I only tend to do it for short periods, not for months with no end to a role.

(although it is as natural to him as breathing. he has always been able to act in any way he desires, and employ all personas, from the most villainous and disgusting, to the most harmless. empty, or so he believes, and it allows him to walk amongst humans as if he belonged; as if he doesn't look at them with a feeling of loss and melancholy as is.

although - it is how the phantom troupe began. theatre kids, trying for hope and community before it was ripped out of them. he vowed to live the rest of his life as a villain, a person so vicious and wholly different from the lively, lovely boy he had once been. lost, and empty, only the mask remains.

a role upon a role upon a role.)

You are not my friend either. You are... Someone I enjoy the company of. You are correct on your assumptions.

(but back to heather, which is the most important thing they have to discuss as it is.)

That explained very little other than devotion.

Ah, how unfortunate. See, this is why you have to decide on what you want your reputation to be rather than the persona that you want to play.

[ Breathing out a sigh, he knows that his personality is rotten and he can't do anything about it. So, what he needs to do is ensure public opinion is curved to what he wants it to be; it ensures he can move easily and carry on as he does without too much suspicion as to what he's doing. ]

People are willing to give a lot of leeway so long as the belief of you as maintained.

[ Vincent offers a quick flash of a smile. ]

I knew I was. It's always nice to be right.

[ His face scrunches up in confusion. ]

Why do you say it sounds like devotion?

Edited 2025-01-03 21:44 (UTC)

I told you I could hardly explain us, but you put some of it into words. The Phantom Troupe, solely by name, is capable of freezing an army in place. We have done all you can imagine and what you may not, so it is not solely a matter of what people believe, but what people know to be true.

(he didn't explain enough about it, and he knows he hasn't. it's the lack of words to explain something so etheral and intangible as the bond and motivation that they share. a symphony of life in red, of love and companionship that blooms from a place of darkness, where nothing should grow.

maybe he can, now, when vincent understands more than he first thought.)

Not a friend, not an enemy, you would sacrifice for her but would be irritated if she sacrificed for you. You are doing all in your power to keep her happy and safe - but not out of a bond. This is how it sounds like to me.

I see, but if you have that reputation here, I can't say that you'll be able to move peacefully.

[ He scratches the side of his face before flattening his hand to rub against his stubble. ]

The belief that I'm hoping for is "a bad person that will do good things for others." [ He waves his hand through the air as he gestures to the construct he's building. ] Good people are far more restricted in their actions and as soon as you're no longer a "good person," you're a threat... it took me awhile to figure out what idea I wanted to implant of myself, and this one seems to be the best of the iterations I've thought of, Chrollo.

[ Holding his hand out, he gestures like Chrollo could take this iteration and build on it to make his own reputation. ]

I guess that does sound like devotion. Yes, yes, I would get irritated if she did anything for me that'd cause her trouble. Although, I will admit there was a time when I wanted her dead... not out of malicious or hateful reasons, either. [ Her existence was just too dangerous. ] Anyway, I can't say I'm making amends just that... if she's doing fine, I have peace of mind.

So, it's for myself I'm doing anything, all right?

If it works for you, it works for you. I would never betray the will of the Spider, so if I cannot move peacefully, as you put it, then it is so. Desperate situations do require desperate measures, though - even the best of good people fold.

(he folded. it had all been a deliberate decision to be as he is, a sane one, built from loss and heartbreak. he had been a child with dreams, a smile that could light a town, and he threw it all away to be as he is - for the spider to be as it is. to be a leader is a burden that he did not choose, and instead, it chose him.

there is no other option but to honor what his identity is, and what the entity that he relies on for it would want him to do.)

Whatever you say, it truly has nothing to do with me whether you are making amends or otherwise, or your reasoning behind it. I just think she deserves a break.

A man of convictions, well, I applaud you.

[ Vincent, however, is a man of contradictions. He's selfish and self-serving yet donated all his points and time to keeping someone else safe here. He serves himself; he serves God; he will destroy his universe to save everyone; he'll ruin Paradise to save himself from Hell.

His actions leave most others baffled and uncertain about what his true intentions are. But every contradiction is simply a part of him. ]

Then I won't try to explain it. [ He holds his hands up. ] I also believe she deserves one. I hope that she spends all her time here learning to live as a teenager... having fun and getting into a moderate amount of trouble between missions.

I have a certain life view to uphold.

(a burden of leadership, as it is. it should not have been chrollo, if it were the way he first envisioned when he made the decision to sell his soul, uvogin would have taken his place. denied when chrollo asked, with all his future legs nominating him instead, and then, lovingly, gently, placing him to his emotional grave.

he would not turn his back on the responsibility of acting upon the spider's will. he couldn't do that to the people who chose him, nor to the departed who left him.)

She told me her father was murdered. Is that recent?

[ That's all that needs to be said, he decides.

Neither one of them is going to change how they live. He feels the way that Chrollo exists presently is difficult to watch, but what can be done? His hand lifts to gently but absentmindedly push his glasses up.

Vincent has chosen to be a high-ranking member of the Order, but he doesn't necessarily want to lead the group; he simply wants the lunatics who claim to speak for God to die. Is that so hard? Is that so wrong?

His thoughts abruptly stop like a needle scratching across a record. Heather! He breathes in through his teeth as he feels that irritation rising in the back of his neck. There's an ache between his eyes that he can't soothe, but what can he do? At least, Chrollo is with him when it comes to looking out for Heather - so these weaknesses, these traumas that are buried in her heart - are "safe" with them. They'll keep those that would use them to plunge figurative knives in her back away. Or at least punish them so that she needn't get her hands dirty.

He sighs and answers: ]

Yes, fairly recent. I suppose the pain of it isn't something that can be buried away.

Ties are not meant to be forgotten, after all.

(there are questions that he would ask, but there is no need for him to know as of now - their connection, her connection to the cult, the reasoning why her father had been murdered, but all of these will come to light if he needs to know.

instead, there are other pressing matters, because there is another murder that is in his mind. kortopi, missing from his page, and there is no way his death would be natural - it simply never works like that for people like them.

so, while he thinks of his own bonds, he's quiet for a few beats, until he speaks.)

Do you have prayers to share with me for the departed?

She won't hear anything negative about him but he was a pretty sneaky guy. He hid a lot of truth from her, you know. But I guess that's one way a parent can protect.

[ Vincent has a wide range of opinions when it comes to Harry Mason. Some good, some bad. Some neutral, surprisingly.

He kicks his feet a few times before crossing them at the ankle. Breathing out slowly, he tilts his head back to look up through the hole in the church. This place doesn't have the same oppressive feeling; like the air is being ripped from his throat.

It really isn't like a church should be.

Vincent pauses to turn to Chrollo, tilting his head. ]

I suppose I do. [ The comments that the man made; they were on slightly different trains of thought but he catches up to what is asked. ]

Would they mean anything coming from me? That is, will you take the prayers I have and hold them sincerely in your heart, Chrollo?

Cannot relate, don't have those. Would you tell her those truths?

(as plenty of the troupe, they were kids left to their own devices, taken care of by meteor city itself. the priest of the church he used to hide in would be closest to a family figure when he was growing up, but even so, not quite. the truth had never been hidden from him, not when it simply could not be, with the ruinous situation of his people tangible in the graveyards, mixed with the smell of garbage under the scorching sun.

he wishes he could explain it, share with vincent as much as he had been shared with - there's this strange bond, between two people who are less than perfect and accept it so, but just as he imagines he cannot know his reality, neither can vincent truly know chrollo's.

a fact of life, if they want to take it like that.)

I would not do differently to your faith, Vincent.

If she asks. [ He lifts one shoulder. ] There's still a lot I don't think that she uncovered, but some things are better buried. [ Especially since he isn't sure how much Alessa remembers. ]

Any truth about her father isn't worth giving. Still... Harry Mason wasn't the saint she thinks he was, nor the devil the Order believed him to be. But isn't that always the way?

[ Anyway - a prayer for the departed, hm?

He offers a brief smile before he clasps his hands together. Bringing his joined hands up, he rests his lips lightly against his thumbs. Bowing his head, he beings the prayer. It's not a prayer so much for the departed but it can be used that way. So why not?

There is a soft reverence that tangles around each word as he speaks: ]

Stained by the evils of this world, we hold our sorrows within us. Only you can heal us these wounds. Each morning, afternoon, evening and night, we call out your name and pray for the day of the Miraculous Descent.

[ Unclasping his hands, he holds them out with his palms up. His head still bowed. ]

I give to you unreservedly my body and my eternal soul. Whatever darkness may befall me, I will endure with you beside me. As proof of your miraculous power, guide our obedient and willing souls to the Road of Paradise, oh Lord. We will not give in to the power of temptation as long as we have you in our hearts.

[ And he raises his hands up toward the sky. ]

Oh Lord, save us with your compassion. Oh Lord, shower us with your blessings. Oh Lord, favor us with your abundance.

[ A pause as he drops his hands as he adds his own flavor, for Chrollo: ]

May those that go before us find the Road to Paradise... and let the walk of penance for whatever sins they carry be short.

(this is hardly something he can't agree. if people knew the beginnings and heartbreaks of the troupe, a lot of what they've done might even be met with some sympathy, however slight. it resonates in too many ways, so he just sits in silence as he listens to the prayer his friend so kindly offered.

some of it is rather specific, he notices, although the message is loud and clear, not unlike the sermons he grew up listening in the church he hid in. to be taken, cared for a superior being - for a man who believes in fate and finds the tendency of humans to avoid it, it surely would be comforting.

if he did still see himself as part of that group. he's changed into something different, not human, muddy and confusing, contradicting and lost; and yet, he takes the prayer in good faith, resting his hand on vincent's shoulder at the end with a gentle smile to his lips.)

For all we have done, I doubt it will be short, but at least one of my departed might find joy in the struggle.

(uvogin.)

It may be short -- it depends on how much guilt they feel for all that has been done, too.

[ Some actions are simply sins, and some actions are only sins based on what the person feels. ]

If you live in a place where your life is trampled upon, it seems only right that you protect yourselves, after all.

[ Much like how he schemed and plotted Claudia's death as soon as he knew of her madness. If he had the power of his own, he would have done something with his own hands, but as it was, he simply lacked the means to do anything. ]

I doubt you want forgiveness, but I can offer you that much insight given what you've told me.

...

(he's quiet, but not because he doesn't know what to say, it's more because he is trying to articulate it - it's always the hardest part. he has scrolls worth of vocabulary, mastery of so many languages, understanding of structures and such ease when it comes to it, but never when it is about himself.

he looks lost in a memory, before he smiled. it's empty, it's pained, and he doesn't even realize it comes to his lips. asking him things doesn't work, but guiding him until he feels ready to speak is a whole different deal - vincent is managing to break some information from him he hasn't spoken about to people outside the troupe in too long.)

It's in my plans to beg for forgiveness. Not to God, they are free to punish me for the countless lives we have taken. But... From a friend, who would not want the life I have chosen for myself when we lost her.

You should be careful with that wish, Chrollo.

[ Interlacing his fingers, he tilts his head as he looks at him. It almost could be concern, something close to sympathy, but it won't ever be fully there. There is always something slithering just beneath the surface - something diseased and means to infect others. ]

Your walk may be a long one. [ A sigh. ] You would be apologizing to your friend with each step, I'm sure, but also forced to suffer the full weight of the guilt you are carrying. [ He holds his hands up in surrender. ]

I doubt that means anything to you, but... you have a look of someone who doesn't care of what suffering is to come. However, as alone as you are, I think those that cherish you might want you to be kinder to yourself. [ He rolls his eyes. ] I'm certain Heather would be quite sad to hear this is what you're thinking for your afterlife, at least.

(right now, his eyes are set on the lilies. no matter what they hear, they remain, bright, kissed by sun, divine - he's glad he stole one, a little piece of peace he keeps hidden elsewhere. his fingers interlace too, forearms on his knees as he listens.

it's not exactly that, not fully, although vincent comes close enough.)

I do not feel guilt. That is not the feeling I have - it's... Acceptance, although lack of understanding, of what it came to be.

I keep telling you, though. I am not alone, the people who cherish me walk the same hell-built road as me, following behind. I doubt you would wish that, and Heather would most likely walk away once she learns the full extent of who I am - I'm a genocidal, murdering, terrorist thief. I would hope she would not stick by me once she finds it out.

Yet you feel your friend is needing an apology?

[ He tilts his head slightly, looking over his expression. It looks very much like the stillness of a lake - yet he feels if he drops enough stones that something would come up from the surface. Of course, that something may kill him, but what of it?

He has accepted his lot in life, as well. ]

I'm part of the religious organization who burned a small child alive... and kept that child alive in a ruined, broken state for years. And that's just one unfortunate life. [ Can he say Alessa is the most unfortunate? Yes. But there have been others; he's hinted that much to Chrollo. ] Yet she's somewhat fond of me... so I fear your hope that she'll abandon you once she understands the extent of what a sinner you are isn't going to come to fruition.

[ He pats his knee. ] Sorry, Chrollo.

She would not want this life for me, so I would beg forgiveness for that - though, all I have done were things I was meant to do. Things that kept others from meeting the same horrific fate, and will continue to do so. It was a decision we made, there are no regrets or guilt.

(after all, who would dare to step foot in meteor city? terrorize their children, torture their people, steal them - film them, accuse them, ignore them. nobody, the phantom troupe stands tall as the ones who defend it, the blood spilled at the auction a long-awaited revenge for all that the mafia has done. it killed the bright, loving and charismatic scrawny kid he had been, to the point he doesn't know if he is even buried within chrollo, but...

meteor city lives. the troupe is heard, the symphony of screams and paintings of gore an ode to their will, to their history, and to their existence. some part of him thinks vincent would somewhat understand; not the full extent of it, naturally, but how what he has done had been for something.)

That is unfortunate. She certainly deserves better than the both of us.

(they both suck. he's aware. vincent is probably aware, too.)

Fine. [ He waves his hand dismissively - the act or sincere gesture of sympathy gone. ] It must be nice to have someone who wouldn't want you living the way that you are.

[ Sadly, he can't relate, but he can, at least, offer that much in words. ]

Well -- yes.

[ No, no. Vincent is aware of how much he sucks; his personality is rotten and he's done so much to ensure that he can't and won't change from how he is. It is out of pettiness - and desperation - to remain himself because this awful person was able to live in a situation where most would fall.

Sure, he died but he put stock in an investment another person put nothing in; so, that was his fault. He believed Claudia would not kill him because he was a member of the Order. Certainly, he was plotting and scheming her death, but she has always been aware of that tidbit in their relationship. However, she truly lost her mind and willingly damned herself to Hell rather than even humor the walk of penance.

Ah, well. ]

Still, think of it this way -- she deserves better but it's better we're on her side than against her, don't you think?

[closed] can we call this bonding?

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cw violence

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cw just violent villain shit

LET'S BE VIOLENT DUDES

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cw injust incarceration, suicide bombing.... and murder...... im so sorry

it's fine; it's fine... cult indoctrination and torture LOOK I GET TO ADD NOW!!!

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cw genocide mention

cw: torture and mutilation of children

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