The Bishop Is In

Jun 29th, 2012 02:37 PM

The Moore House crouched in the graveyard, radiating its own kind of well-maintained imposition on the landscape around it. The whitewashed boards stand out in stark contrast to the previous dereliction of the building itself. But in such ways Churches reflect the personality of their incumbants. The one before Sidor had decayed and lost his mind.

Sidor on the other hand, was horrifyingly sane.

Which was probably not all that reassuring.

It just meant that he would be completely grounded in reality at all points while he was talking.

The Nosferatu Bishop waited in the meeting room in the Moore House, idly considering the current impression the new arrival had given. It was precisely one hundred percent better than the last new arrival, considering he hadn't been forced to explain the First Tradition, again.

He regarded this with caution.

It was unwise to jump to any sort of conclusion, after all.

**Benji** · Jun 29th, 2012 03:00 PM

In Los Angeles, there were two kinds of places the Sactified would meet. Mass was held in special warehouses designed as secret chapels and monasteries for the damned, where specially trained ghouls would serve their betters after they had been blinded and their tongues removed. Smaller, more intimate gatherings of Sanctified were held in clubs and bars, in secret rooms with one-way windows looking out into the places Mortals thought they were alone.

To Blake, Moore House was something different. Obviously set apart from mankind but in a way that was strangely different than what he was used to. Blake stands outside the building and checks his watch. He is early, and waits a minute and twenty three seconds before knocking precisely thirty minutes after speaking to the Bishop on the phone.

Jun 30th, 2012 01:30 PM

Sidor heard the knock, at exactly the right time. His invisible lips flickered into a razorblade thin smile, for the barest of seconds. He appreciated people who arrived on time.

Order was one of the many chains by which the Beast was held at bay, after all. He stood and strode to the door, pulling it open. He could feel the weakness of the Beast outside, and his own boiled up in a vicious maelstrom of redness beneath the ice, seeking a crack, always seeking, always hungry...

And finding nothing. No give. No access. Just unyielding ice and a frozen hand that held it back like iron.

"Good evening. Please, come in," the Bishop said, his accent carefully muted. His movements were stark, leaping out from the foreground as if he were planning to attack the scenery.

And of course, he had no face. Just an ink-black shroud across his features, underneath which there could be anything.

**Benji** · Jun 30th, 2012 04:52 PM

OBEY. SUBMIT. Sheer away the meat, the value-laden terms that the Man insists on applying to the sensation, cleave it down to the bone and that is the feeling Blake must grapple with whenever he meets another of the Damned. It's not submission to another being, like you might expect in upscale clubs where people pay good money to be beaten and flogged by a stand in for their mother or father. It's submission to freedom. Freedom from chaos and uncertanty and individuality. All it costs is free will and volition. Give those up and the Beast is happy to take over for you.

"Thank you Bishop." Blake smiles as he says it and makes sure the door is closed behind him. As they move further into the building, it takes Blake a moment to realize the nature of the Bishop's curse. When he does, it upsets the mental balance he had been holding up to that moment. "Um... yes. Thank you for taking the time to see me. I wished to meet with you and introduce myself as well as answer any questions you may have of me. Blake Reese, childe of Mother Sofia Godard of the Abbey of Submission, raised within the Domain of Los Angeles over the last year."

Jul 1st, 2012 12:45 PM

Sidor's expression was level and neutral beneath the shadows, as he led Blake to the meeting room in the Moore House. The worn furniture had the look of something carefully maintained, but well used over the years. The Nosferatu sat down, making a brief, staccato gesture towards the chair across from him.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Reese," he said politely. Only after an assessment would he call a new Sanctified 'brother', no matter how polite they seemed to be at first blush. First impressions were fleeting, and misleading. "I trust that you have already been acknowledged within the Domain, since you have been pointed towards me directly?"

**Benji** · Jul 1st, 2012 08:10 PM

Blake ran a finger along the lines of the chair when Sidor gestured to it, not out of any desire to test it's cleanliness but out of an appreciation of the work that had gone into it. He nods in the affirmative before elaborating. "I have, by Herald Villiers and Bailiff Sage a few nights ago. I made the acquaintance of Deputy Connery that night as well."

Jul 4th, 2012 12:43 PM

"Excellent," Sidor said simply. Because it was. It was irritating when the protocols were not followed, since it lead to him having considerably more work than he otherwise would have. And of course, protocol was like a razorblade. Slip, and it could cut the one who made the misstep to the bone.

"Deputy Connery is Deacon within this Church, a long-standing member - although I am sure he already told you this. What are your plans during your time in this Domain, Mr. Reese?"

**Benji** · Jul 5th, 2012 10:50 AM

"I wish to help others in coming to terms with their Damnation. To that end I plan on developing myself into a succssful and contributing member of the Domain so that when I speak to peope they don't dismiss me out of hand." He says earnestly. "To that end, I have already spoken with the Reeve and offered to help in his duties any way I can. I wish to continue my studies and enter into a deeper understanding of my nature as both Ventrue and Sanctified. Beyond that? I have not seen enough of the city yet to determine where I should best focus my energy."

Jul 5th, 2012 11:58 AM

Sidor's expression remained perfectly impassive as Blake delivered probably the closest thing to a perfect answer he'd heard since he'd become Bishop.

Naturally, that made him slightly suspicious, given that most Sanctified he'd encountered in America were tragically somewhere off the scale of 'completely insane', but such was the nature of the Beast.

At least there wasn't a suggestion of a desire to burn and castigate established Kindred for daring to not attend the Midnight Mass, or a desire to ram bricks of coke down the throats of prostitutes.

"Your desire to serve the Domain is well-founded. It is in service that we attain a measure of Purpose. For this reason are the Traditions upheld, and the Laws of a Domain considered inviolate," Sidor said levelly, after a moment's quiet thought. "In your opinion, then, Mr. Reese. How does one come to terms with their Damnation?"

**Benji** · Jul 6th, 2012 04:51 AM

Blake has spoken about this before, many times. But each time it comes out different. His beliefs are still young, fluid and growing, thoughts and questions mixing and producing new insights into his existence. It takes him some time to put words together into a shell that holds them all. "By understanding and accepting it. Submitting to it. Knowing that no matter what your motives are, no matter how much you wanted to make the world a better place, your existence makes it measurably worse." His gaze is unwavering as he expands on his beliefs. "It is something that every Vampire knows. We exist on life stolen from mortals who cannot understand us. We can be hypocritical and claim that we only feed from the willing or those that deserve it, but they are only comforting lies we tell ourselves. The willing are beguiled by the Kiss and easily turned into addicts. Those that we decide deserve it, feeding on them is no different than gutting them and letting them bleed out slowly, over time. We feed on people because we don't want to let go of what life we have. We have all decided to put ourselves before every single human being on this planet."

He rests his elbows on the arms of the chair, interlacing his fingers and resting his chin on his knuckles as he gathers his thoughts. "We live in a world of lies, Bishop. Very important lies that protect us and our society from destruction. But if we insist on telling lies to ourselves, about ourselves, we construct an idealized world that lives only in our heads. When that illusion shatters, we don't have anything to fall back on. Pretending that we are something other than monsters, damned and condemned by our very nature to cause mankind to suffering, is a comforting illusion. But that illusion will only breed shame and weakness that rots us from within. To come to terms with Damnation, you have to accept it for what it is.

The Bishop Is In

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