Feliks Łukasiewicz
Monster Bait
Homosexual.
Single.
19.
Played by Koso.
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Although it be a cross that raiseth me...
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Post by Poland on Apr 15, 2013 16:49:46 GMT -6
Such a strange place, this manor. It was bigger than Feliks had expected, reminding him of the High Middle Ages more than anything--like a relic of a time much older than America. A plantation in the American South from before their war wiped out slavery was so very reminiscent of a fief in Europe from before anyone other than the odd Viking knew America existed, as if history had copied itself over. Or, he allowed practically, as if this were a common sign of a powerful ruling class that wanted to have all possible control over its lessers.
The similarities he noted mostly ran along the lines of how almost everything one could need to live existed in this place, except for freedom. It was the perfect setup to deny freedom to others. One could eat here from the gardens and livestock they would have kept, and never needed to leave to buy more food. The raw materials for clothing were grown on plantations like these; if they had wanted to, the masters of this place might have kept some back so that the enslaved seamsters they surely had could outfit everyone who lived there. Water and shelter were equally served by such a place, and a degree of safety was offered by the same boundaries that were also meant to keep the slaves to afraid to run away. There was even a chapel, which was where he had wandered his way to now.
The chapel was in ruins, which somehow seemed totally appropriate. From the outside, Feliks could see that the windows were broken and the walls were a dirty, sooty mess. He shook his head in half-pretended sorrow, having no attachment to this place but remembering all the times when war had meant he had to worship in a familiar church reduced to a similar state.
The door was burnt to the point where only half of it still existed, and it wobbled crazily on its hinges as Feliks pushed it open before himself. The inside still smelled of smoke and the floor was coated with ash, though every other sign indicated that the chapel had burned a long time before. Keeping the skirt of his nun* costume high enough off the ground that he would not get it dirtier than necessary, he walked deeper into the desecrated sanctuary, between the charred skeletons of pews.
When had the chapel burned, and why? It had obviously never been cleaned or attended to since, so it must have been near or after the time when the manor was abandoned, because if there had been people living there then surely they would have at least gone and swept up some of the ashes. Instead, it seemed to have been left the way it was for however many years it had been. Perhaps it was even a recent development--there was an awful lot of ash left, and it seemed surprisingly unmixed with dirt or dust or plant life--but that seemed unlikely in light of his other question: what might have started the fire? It didn't make sense that lightning would strike a small stone building in the courtyard of a much larger building that had evidently gone untouched. Any fire from outside would have left marks elsewhere. That meant the fire must have started within the chapel--perhaps from an accident involving ceremonial candles, or possibly some arsonist having fun?
Feliks reached the front of the sanctuary, before what was left of the altar, and looked up at the crucifix. Transferring the gathered folds of his skirt to his left hand, he crossed himself and bowed his head to pray silently.
That is, he had intended to pray silently. Within a few moments, he was whispering his prayer under his breath: "Kyrie eleison, Lord have mercy," switching from liturgical language to everyday tongue and back.
A thought burst in his head, marking an unsettling counterpoint to his prayer: this place, which was set up perfectly to deny freedom to the enslaved, was also set up perfectly to deny escape to the nations now.
*That would be Japan's idea of what a Catholic nun would look like, which bears very little resemblance to the real thing.
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2013 11:32:42 GMT -6
Kim-Ly was by no means religious. Heavens knew, the majority of her people were atheistic, and if not that, mostly practiced Ancestor worship. Consequently, Kim-Ly had always felt a bit excluded a jaded by ancestor worship. Who was she supposed to worship? Certainly not whatever unfortunate civilization that had preceded her.
Sure, in the 1600’s (the beginning of imperialism and consequently the beginning of a series of stubborn Western invasions) Portugal had come along with his “missionaries” and France with his Catholicism… but if anything, it made Vietnam somewhat even more opposed to the idea of religion. Usually, you aren’t too fond of it when one of your leaders chops off the heads of your Buddhist citizens. But maybe Kim-Ly was just overreacting.
Nope. No she wasn’t. Western religion was bad news.
Kim-Ly belonged in a temple…worshipping the mother goddess, the smell of joss sticks, or the sound of the Chau Van. The nation had neither the time nor the patience for the slow paced Gregorian chants that floated around churches and cathedrals. That was south’s territory.
“It makes sense that hell has a chapel”, Kim-Ly pursed her bottom lip as she stared up at the building. It must have been a beautiful one at one point. Broken windows that had once been full of stained glass at some point…a strong enough foundation to have survived a fire.
(Fire. God, she could smell it. It was bitter, burned her throat, stuck in her nose. She felt sick just being near it)
Vietnam shook her head, porcelain armor clinking at the sudden and violent motion. Not Vietnam, not Vietnam, Napalm didn’t do this. . She bent over, leaning heavily on her paddle and picked up a small piece of surviving stain glass and held it gingerly up to the sky. Yes. The church had been very beautiful at one point.
Still holding the piece of glass carefully in the palm of her hand, Kim-Ly edged closer to the church her own curiosity overpowering the urge to vomit. She wasn’t scared of fire…but trời! It smelled terrible. It looked terrible, the woman loved bright scarlet and oranges, but she found no love in watching fire. Kim-Ly cast another glance at the chapel, blank face more thoughtful than disgusted.
Well…glass is sharp. It would be a waste of a weapon to leave it here, and there’s more inside, isn’t there?
Nodding to herself, Kim-Ly found herself moving quietly towards the church, hand resting lightly on one of the charred doorway. As a rule, by Kim-Ly’s nature she was incredibly irreverent; she had spat on China’s traditions in her younger days and shucked the husks of imperialism with all the grace of a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. Granted, Vietnam didn’t think most butterflies got pelted with bombs after their miraculous transformation. Unless you would call kids with nets bombs (she wouldn’t).
But despite all her well-practiced and stubborn irreverence, Kim-Ly could not help but pause at the sight of the Polish nation in front of the altar.
“As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end” Murmured the woman from the back of the chapel. “You’re Poland, yes?”
((I hope you don’t mind me jumping in))
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Feliks Łukasiewicz
Monster Bait
Homosexual.
Single.
19.
Played by Koso.
Offline.
Although it be a cross that raiseth me...
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Post by Poland on May 10, 2013 19:00:34 GMT -6
Feliks had been very deep in prayer, so perhaps it could be excused that he did not even hear the sound of Kim-Ly's footsteps. Her voice seemed to mesh with his thoughts, leading him to finish his prayer, and then pulling him back to full awareness:
"You're Poland, yes?"
It wasn't precisely a shock; he turned calmly to see the smaller nation at the back of the chapel.
"Yeah, that's me," Feliks confirmed. He recognized immediately that the woman in the room with him was from somewhere in Southeast Asia, and after a moment he placed her identity. "You're... Vietnam?"
Interfering with Vietnam's business had been mostly France's province for a long time, and then America's; Poland had stayed well away from that mess. As such, he lacked the wounded pride that had led the more recently imperial powers to become less than friendly with her.
The Asian woman appeared to be slightly ill, though she was hiding it so well that Feliks thought he might have merely imagined it. Using both hands to hold his (rather inconvenient, now that he thought of it--of course, he hadn't been planning on walking through piles of soot when he selected this costume) skirt again, he began to pick his way back to the rear of the sanctuary, partly to get a better look at her expression and partly because the building was making him slightly uneasy now.
To mask his discomfort, Feliks affected a bit of his usual blunt cheeriness--less than he might have with someone more familiar, as giving offense wasn't remotely his goal here, but enough that he hoped it wasn't noticeable that the inexplicably recent-seeming fire damage was beginning to creep him out. "You look kinda, like, uncomfortable or something." Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say. Maybe it was obvious that he suspected himself of projecting his own feelings onto her. Still, it was said, and as he stopped a few meters away, he continued his thoughts. "This place. What do you think of it?"
A light breeze blew from the half-open door, shifting the ashy mess on the floor slightly and causing the charred wood of what used to be pews to creak. The obvious confronted the nation again: How long ago could the fire have possibly been, when things like this happen?
Luckily, he thought he kept that worry off of his face.
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Post by Deleted on May 24, 2013 20:02:47 GMT -6
“Exactly. Lovely, we know each other…I do hate wasting time on introductions”
He hadn’t been startled.
Good. That was a good sign.
Vietnam, could not say she knew a lot about Poland, sure, they had diplomatic relations. Nice comfortable trade…and of he was anything like the other Western nation, his government probably sent some degree of money her way. But really talked to him? No, there had been little time after her wars and Kim-Ly wasn’t going to drag herself into European affairs. ESPECIALLY with economic mess they were in now.
That didn’t mean she didn’t respect him however. Kim-Ly was well-versed enough in history to know the blonde hadn’t exactly had an easy time –despite his vain appearance, resilience was something Vietnam could respect.
“…Your dress. It’s too long. A bit dangerous don’t you think?” She remarked lazily as she watched the man approach, lifting his skirts just high enough so he wouldn’t trip. For a second she opened her mouth as if to further comment on the apparel before quickly closing it again. It was odd, but then…there was something gleefully wrong about the nun costume. Sacrilegious to a point.
Kim-Ly raised a brow, and seemingly ignored the first question, turning her attention instead to a rapidly decaying pew. “What do I think, huh?” She drew her hand across the softened, ashy wood, prying off a piece that was close to falling off. “It’s beautiful. Beautiful and sad all at the same time…most beautiful things are, I suppose.” Kim-Ly shrugged, and gazed up at the ceiling. She was surprised that the whole thing didn’t fall down on them. “But then, fire and churches. They never have been my cup of tea.” She smiled ruefully as she examined the wood, finally dropping it to the ground with a clatter.
Her hand game away ashy and black, the woman grimaced, wiping it across her robes with undisguised disgust. It stood stark black against the scarlet and orange of the fabric, as if her own clothes had been burned by just coming into contact with the relic.
Ash…god, I hate that too.
She looked back up to the Pole, an almost curious expression settling over her face. Cropped blonde hair, green eyes, light skinned…taller than her (typical). But…he looked about as happy as Kim-Ly felt. But then…how could you really be anything other than anxious in a place like this?
“And you, Ba Lan? What do you think?” Her brows furrowed, “You obviously found some respite here.”
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Feliks Łukasiewicz
Monster Bait
Homosexual.
Single.
19.
Played by Koso.
Offline.
Although it be a cross that raiseth me...
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Post by Poland on Jul 17, 2013 2:09:18 GMT -6
It was clear now to Feliks that the woman before him was indeed as uncomfortable as he was, and also equally inclined to hide it. He ignored the comment on his dress, since explaining everything he could say about it would take hours, and instead listened to what she thought of their surroundings.
Of course Vietnam didn't like fire; Feliks may have stayed out of those wars, but one way or another every nation had seen the pictures and heard the stories. He was a bit curious about why she wasn't fond of churches, but that seemed like the sort of story that was best not inquired about openly. Instead, he simply watched her inspect the ashy pews.
In reply to her question, he mused, "I like churches. They say I was born in one." He looked around at the charred interior. "It wasn't always so sad in here, I think. You can still see the outlines of how it looked when it wasn't burned out." Impulsively, he gave voice to the real source of his concern: "How long ago d'ya think that was?"
Poland knew fire. Every nation did, as a consequence of the war-marked histories they all had. But what he thought he read in the destruction here was something impossible. What did that mean for them?
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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2013 16:42:29 GMT -6
“Really? Sounds like a messy affair for a church,” quipped the woman, a sly smirk coloring her face, though never the less intrigued. Every nation had their own origin stories…some slightly more believable than others (Vietnam’s being one of the more outlandish). Still, she was surprised by the nation before her. Poland had never struck her as an overtly religious nation.
“Mm,” Kim-Ly’s eyes swept over the space, “Not long ago enough,” She looked again towards her ashy robes and didn’t even try hiding her annoyance when she noticed the handprint was still there. Harrumphing, she brushed again at the splotch –only managing to spread it further in the process. Defeated, the woman grumbled and moved her armor slightly to the left, managing to hide the majority, though a tiny sliver of gray still peeked out from behind its new hiding place.
Rustles form the sudden movement echoed back to her hollowly. Vietnam winced, instantly regretting being so loud. She did not like churches in the best of times –but she would admit that the placement of the chapel was genius when it came to lowering moral. Even a building of peace was twisted to something that induced anxiety.
If it wasn’t for the fact she was trapped, Vietnam almost admired the Manor’s attention to detail and irony.
“The only question is “why”,” she continued, "Which could really mean anything, knowing the manor, y’know?”
“Like, look how terrible this Chapel is –oops! You’re on fire!” Deadpanned the woman, flippantly waving her hand. Kim-Ly supposed it could be dangerous to make fun of the Manor, but then…the tiny rebellions felt so sweet on her tongue. “Seems like something that would happen anyways. Whoever designed the place has a twisted idea of “peace” and “fun”.”
“Do you think there was anyone in here, when it did catch fire?" Her eyes almost immeadiatly started scanning the grounds for bones. It wasn't a very nice thought.
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Feliks Łukasiewicz
Monster Bait
Homosexual.
Single.
19.
Played by Koso.
Offline.
Although it be a cross that raiseth me...
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Post by Poland on Sept 20, 2013 21:52:12 GMT -6
"A messy affair for a church," she had said. Feliks smiled at that.
"That's what churches are for, really. Messy things. Messy beings and our messy lives."
It was pretty clear to him by now that Vietnam's experience with churches differed strikingly from his own. For him, church had always been a safe place--a sanctuary, in fact--and a piece of who he was. Maybe the difference was that he had been, specifically, a Catholic country no matter how hard anyone tried to change that, while Vietnam was something else and had apparently resisted an attempt to force her to change. Well, he could certainly respect that.
Her comment about the time not having been long enough since the chapel burned resonated in a different way. Really--he kept this thought to himself, though--would any length of time be long enough? The more he considered it, the more sense it seemed to make. They had seen the remarkable degree of preservation elsewhere in the Manor. Why shouldn't this be frozen in time too?
The other nation was considering it from a slightly different angle now: her comment about "why" the fire had started mirrored his earlier thought about the possible causes, but she managed to reach a conclusion, or at least something closer than what he had found, on the subject.
"'Why,' which could really mean anything, knowing the manor, y'know? Like, look how terrible this chapel is--oops! You're on fire!"
Despite the grimness of the subject and their surroundings, Feliks couldn't help but laugh at that. It was possible that that was really what had happened, as possible as anything, but it was better to acknowledge that it was still absurd than to go crazy with fear.
Vietnam's next thought wasn't nearly so amusing, though. "Do you think there was anyone in here when it did catch fire?"
She was already scanning the ground, but Feliks didn't bother. If there was anything to see, he didn't want to know it was there. "I hope not, and I don't think there was," he opined. It was possible, but something told him it was unlikely--he had the sense that if the Manor wanted the chapel destroyed, it was because the chapel itself was the target.
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