He leaned his back up against one of the stone walls lining the narrow streets of this city, releasing a quiet sigh. It's true, it was way easier putting up illusions on people now, now that he was finally out of that god-forsaken hole Qetsiyah had dumped him in, and now that he finally had a little blood flowing in his body, now that his body wasn't using up all of its energy just to fight off that desiccation, but...they still took a lot out of him, putting up these visions, running on just the blood of those few people he had been lucky enough to come across. He had needed to use a pretty powerful illusion just to enter the city, thanks to all those watchful guards who just had to keep up their posts along the wall. I mean, really, was it too much to ask, for one or two of them to have slacked off a little?
The more people whose minds he entered at once, the more of a toll it took on him. It would have been a lot easier if somewhere along the wall, there had been only one guard who could get a clear view of him, but...no. Of course not. It would have also been a lot easier if one of his doppelgangers--namely, the vampire, since that was the only one who it was even possible to be outside--had been out exploring the wastelands at the time, then he could have used that to his advantage, impersonated him. But...unfortunately, that wasn't the case, either.
And now, he was busy masking his presence altogether from anyone he came across on the street, just in case impersonating one of those lookalikes of his went wrong and they turned up somewhere far too close for comfort. Or, if it was someone who knew them really well, then he would have to delve into their minds to get a clear picture of what that person was like, the mannerisms and whatnot. That would be such a hassle...
Besides, he was feeling pretty drained right about now, definitely didn't feel like doing that, and, more importantly, he was in severe need of a little more blood. Like...as soon as possible would be great. Unfortunately, it would be harder to cover his tracks now that he was in the city. Oh...this wonderful city, where, apparently, feeding on humans was a capital offense. And he couldn't go around being too careless about this. I mean, it's true, he was still stronger than even the Originals, sitting all high and mighty up there at the tip-top of this fine prison town, but their heads were, admittedly, a little harder to tap into than everyone else. He guessed they deserved at least some perk.
Anyway...he had his sights set somewhere else. He'd heard rumors about those blood stores of theirs, that they kept human blood holed up somewhere, some blood bank, and that would be his target. If he could get his hands on that, walking through these streets would suddenly be a whole lot easier. He would wait until it got dark, and the bank closed, then he'd scope the place out. Until then...he needed a place to stay hidden.
Closing his eyes a moment, and taking a breath to steady his senses, he then sent out a psychic search, seeking out the nearest place with the fewest number of people inside.
Ooh...looks like I got a hit, he thought to himself after only a short moment, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth as he reopened his eyes and turned toward the large, towering structure only a few blocks away. Only one person inside...and he's human, too.
Pushing himself away from the wall then, the ancient creature began a casual stroll down the empty streets, happy to have found a place of refuge, one of the first places he had managed to find since he'd entered the city. As he focused in on the building he was approaching, he offhandedly wondered why there wasn't anyone else inside. It was a pretty big place...did the guy seriously live alone in there? Maybe it would get crowded later...?
Oh well. For now, it was just him. And right now, that's all that mattered.
When he came to the large, intricate doors, he pulled one of them open, and stepped into the high-ceiling-ed place. It looked kind of like those temples some of the people used to worship in. The Jews, anyway. His own people had usually worshiped in these large, open structures, with a bunch of columns lining it, and a huge statue of whatever god the temple was dedicated to. This...nah, this was a little different than that. There were some statues, though. That was the same, at least. Maybe it was some kind of place of worship. In which case, maybe the guy was some sort of high priest.
Now, where was that person who was supposed to be in here, anyway...?
Post by Fr. Nathaniel River on Sept 10, 2015 22:54:09 GMT
Father Nathaniel River, the overseer of the last remaining stronghold of the holy religion, knelt in front of the altar, concluding his daily prayer to the Lord for wisdom. This time of tribulation was weighing on the souls of those who remained. Were they damned? Was God looking out for those who lived past the end times? Or were these, this current bout of darkness, the end times? It was plain he had his doubts...who wouldn't in this desperation? But he mustn't give up. He must keep the faith for if there was still hope for the world, and mankind itself, then this was the most crucial time. Faith mattered now more than ever. They mustn't give up and believe that their paths were still laid out for them.
After all...the Lord worked in mysterious ways.
The white-maned priest couldn't help but chuckle under his breath at his last thought. It was a line he had heard many a time before. At least he could still find joy in the simple things. That was also of great importance. Light still remained.
Ending his prayer with a whispered "Amen", Father River signed himself and rose. He let his gaze linger on the crucifix of their holy Lord a moment before dropping his head into a penitent bow. Suddenly, his silent reverie was broken by the unmistakable clang of the wooden door and the echo that followed.
Who can that be at this hour?
Turning on his socked foot, for it was more comfortable to discard shoes and other formal wear when not in mass, he was greeted by the arrival of a familiar face. One that wasn't familiar enough to see in church every Sunday, but familiar nonetheless. "Stefan Salvatore," Nathaniel greeting, nodding his head. "I don't usually see you in here. Is something amiss?"
When the guy finally emerged, Silas had to take a minute to compose himself. This...was definitely not what he had expected. Standing in front of him, and barely reaching his midriff, was a guy who...well, he almost looked like a kid. However, his hair was snow white, his skin kind of a sickly pale hue, and his large, black eyes stared up at him with this strange, knowing look in them. He noticed he wasn't even wearing shoes. Was it really okay for this guy to be left in here all alone?
Right, he took a minute to clear up his thoughts. Stefan. Stefan Salvatore. He focused in on the priest and it only took a brief second for him to search his mind, for images of Stefan, for interactions the two had had together, what sort of person he was. Or, more importantly, what sort of person this guy thought he was. It seemed Stefan had a habit of calling him "Fr. River." That shouldn't be too hard to keep track of.
After digging a second longer, he discovered that this guy actually did seem to be some type of priest. The vestments he was wearing were sort of a giveaway for that, but it was nice having it confirmed. And, lucky for him, it seemed Stefan didn't visit this "church" very often. That was good to know, they wouldn't be in any danger of him making any random appearances during this conversation of theirs.
In that moment, however, he quickly had to let up on his wanderings through this priest's mind, and he took a quick breath, holding his head in his hand. Yeah, he'd have to play this off somehow, but damn...this was taking a lot more effort than he cared to admit. He really needed some blood to get his powers back on the right track.
Even as this thought past through his mind, he cast a brief glance in the little albino's direction, and he narrowed his eyes. He had planned on just feeding on whoever this person was, seeing as he was all alone here, but...now that he was actually here, now that he was actually looking at his sole meal choice, it seemed...wrong, somehow. Yeah, that wasn't exactly a word he was prone to using very often, but...it seemed oddly fitting here. I mean, just look at those tiny wrists! He was so small, and so frail, it actually seemed like one, solid puncture might be enough to make the kid bleed out. It would be easy enough to cover up a feeding, but a dead body? That might be a little harder to deal with.
Ugh...
Lowering his hand from his head then, Silas lowered his gaze, furrowing his brow as he responded to the little man, "Yes, I...think there might be." He put on a troubled tone, reminiscent of his pathetic shadow-self, before explaining, "You see, Fr. River, I've been...feeling very conflicted lately. I thought I might come here, to see if I could get some...spiritual guidance."
That ought to be a convincing enough cover-story. Moreover, it might actually garner him some sympathy points from the priest. Those were always helpful.
Post by Fr. Nathaniel River on Sept 11, 2015 1:36:43 GMT
He expected a response. He didn't expect the intense stare. However, perhaps he should have expected it. Stefan did often stare at people in such ways. Was he trying to peer into his soul? Well, two could play at that game, man!
Father River promptly widened his eyes and met the stare of the taller figure. He could keep this up for as long as necessary.
Hm. It seemed necessary wasn't very long since shortly after, the Salvatore boy dropped his head into his hand as if in pain. This concerned the priest who held a hand out, palm skyward. He would wait a moment and see if this poor young man needed assistance.
When he at last spoke, the pain seemingly subsiding, he did need help, but it wasn't of the physical sort. No, this help was of a spiritual nature and was much more delicate. Finally understanding, the priest extended his hand and placed it tenderly upon the shoulder of the tortured soul. "It is alright, my child. We all feel conflicted. In these dark times, especially. Come," he gestured to the closest pew with his other arm. "Let us sit and you may tell me what is troubling you so."
Alright, looks like it's time for a little more bullshit.
"Thank you, father," Silas returned. ...Father? Eh, it seemed like some kind of title, like "doctor" or "professor", so he'd just go with it. It seemed like the kind of thing that could stand on its own, anyhow. Anyway, the offering of a seat actually sounded perfect right about now, and he therefore crossed the distance to take a seat in the indicated pew. As he settled down into it, he closed his eyes, taking a minute to just relax here, enjoying the sensation of being able to relax, before glancing back over at the young...man?
He was still playing with the idea of getting a snack out of him, in the back of his mind... Yeah, he'd keep that on the back-burner for now, see how this all ended up going.
"It's nice, by the way," he added, gesturing briefly over the building, at those pretty colored windows that made up patterns of people, and scenes. "This place." Stefan didn't come here much, so he should be alright, getting away with saying something like that.
"I could tell you, but wouldn't it be so much more fun if it were a surprise?"
Post by Fr. Nathaniel River on Sept 11, 2015 3:45:31 GMT
Nathaniel nodded contentedly when the young vampire accepted his offer and soon joined him along the pew. When he heard the compliment, he grinned and held his hands out towards the expanse of the church. "As well it should be, my son. This is the Lord's house and, as such, must be worthy of him. Thank you, though," he twisted a curl around his finger, his grin widening with glee. "Thank you very much."
Silas chuckled at that look that had come over the priest's face, how excited he looked, and the way he was curling his hair. He sure was a strange little one, wasn't he? He wasn't exactly sure what he meant by all that, "the Lord's house" or anything. He must be referring to their god, this being his temple, the place they worshiped him. It kind of made him wonder just who this god was, what sort of religion this place bought into.
"You're welcome," he told him easily, smiling down at the fellow, before his eyes wandered again.
There were an awful lot of crosses around this place, weren't there? And, on the very back wall there, there was a huge one, with a guy getting crucified. That was...kind of strange, to say the least. Maybe that was who they worshiped? This..."Lord" the albino had mentioned? If so, he wasn't really sure he understood what appeal there was in a guy who looked like he was in a whole hell of a lot of pain, why people would gather around to follow him. The statues he was always used to seeing would display these huge shows of strength, making sure everyone knew of their divinity, that they were a force humans couldn't really even touch. That's what gods were supposed to be, after all, right?
As his eyes continued wandering around the place, they came to rest on those windows again. One in particular caught his attention, and he narrowed his eyes as he observed it, not really sure what to make of it. It looked there were these people kneeling in front of...some sort of animal trough. Were they worshiping animals, too? He'd definitely seen that before. But, it also kinda looked like there was a person inside. Strange...
"Hey...father?" he asked, pointing towards it. He'd just go ahead and hedge his bets on Stefan's ignorance here. Even if that wasn't the case, which he kinda suspected it wasn't, it didn't seem like the priest and his doppelganger were all that close. How would Fr. River know if Stefan knew about this stuff or not? Anyway, he was curious, and he wanted to ask. "What's the story behind that one?"
Post by Fr. Nathaniel River on Sept 11, 2015 4:51:52 GMT
The priest followed his gaze and his black eyes widened upon contact. You've got to be kidding me. Didn't the Salvatore learn anything from Sunday mass? He assumed he at least knew about one of the most pivotal moments in all of Christianity.
I have to stop, he silently chastised himself. It was not his place to judge. Such an easy human trait that he was often carried away with. It was a struggle of his, among many others, but that was humanity. Bringing his arms in, he released a long breath to calm his mind. After a short moment, he lowered the limbs before returning his attention to his newly appointed student.
"That, my child, is the birth of Jesus. That night Mary and Joseph couldn't find a room at the inn, so they took up shelter in the barn where all the animals slept. That was where the Son of God was brought into this world. He came in the essence of a human and in the most humbling of places. It is truly a sign that God loves us if he would allow his own son to be born surrounded by naught by donkeys and sheep. Not even a cradle to rest his head, but an animal trough."
"Huh," Silas said only, after the priest finished his tale.
So, this Jesus guy was the...Son of God? And he came looking like a human, or...rather, born as a human? Even though he was already God's son? And he had to be born in a barn because nobody would give them a room in an inn? That was a...strange concept. If he was a god, why didn't he just take the room? But then, Fr. River had mentioned something about humility...was that the point? Sort of like...teaching a kind of lesson?
It was all pretty interesting, either way. What a strange religion.
And, yeah, that look that had come over the priest's face when he had asked about the picture, it hadn't been lost on him, not for a second. Apparently, it was pretty shocking, not knowing that. He must be making Stefan look pretty stupid here. At least he had some kind of excuse, being locked away in a tomb for a good two thousand years.
"When did...all that happen, exactly?" he wondered aloud then.
It looked kind of ancient, the way they dressed in the pictures, sort of reminded him of his own time. Even the crucifixion thing, that was a definite favorite execution method of those Romans. They just loved torture. But, there had been plenty of changes in culture between then and now. How long that had taken, for that change to happen...? He wasn't really sure. He really needed to break into some kind of library, brush up on his history or something. He was seeming pretty ignorant here.
"I could tell you, but wouldn't it be so much more fun if it were a surprise?"
Niklaus Mikaelson: Heheh. That is quite the title you've concocted for her ;1 But, you're right, and we are all certainly glad you do it, puting this effort into for us. At least it's productive in some way. You could find yourself wasted also. Then where would we be?
Mar 11, 2015 21:18:57 GMT
*
Elijah Mikaelson: I would think in a place he would enjoy.
Mar 12, 2015 3:10:09 GMT
Damon Salvatore: True, very true there, stiffy ;1 Don't know about the rest of you, but *I'll* be in a place I enjoy.
Mar 12, 2015 18:58:11 GMT
