Bad Religion (PP: August)

[Brownlee]

Atlanta, the not distant enough past. Another week past, marked by another Midnight Mass.

Every Sanctified Domain has it's own geographic flare, and Atlanta is no different: a hint of the Southern-Baptist, hardliner, wealthy conservatism with a splash of Pentecostal fervor and fanaticism. It's not a time of hymnals and pews but one of big screens with Power Point lyrics and stadium seating. It's not just religion, you see; it's entertainment; it's an emotional experience; it's a social who's-who with the extra obstacle of holiness--not just Sanctified, no, because in a Lancea Sanctum Domain, everyone goes to church, especially the ones who don't want to.

Mood Music.

[ri]http://static1.squarespace.com/static/51b3dc8ee4b051b96ceb10de/t/53374949e4b035f75f29b0fb/1396132188370/michael-chiklis-joins-american-horror-story-freak-show[/ri]"Shit!" Crispin exclaims with a harsh whisper, before remembering where he is and crossing himself. Luckily, the Sanctuary is empty so far. He pats at his waist, examines himself--somehow, he'd forgotten his belt. "Watch the door for me, Auggie, will you?" It's his week to usher, meet and greet and seat, as the procession files in, a task ill-suited for someone of his social finesse. But August knows that being first face at a Domain function is a political opportunity, a veritable key to the city for one who'd mastered the game: sentimental remembrance, oblique flirtation, opportune piety, and tasteful flattery--all in proper amount and timing. And so they pretend together, that Crispin had forgotten his belt by accident and that ushering is a chore for August too.

"Be right back," Crispin lies, smooth as braile. "I promise. Wouldn't want to miss tonight's big surprise." He winks, like anyone but that crazy Reverend knows what it is.

OOC: Give me a sense of your attire in your opening post. One post to reply to Crispin. As you meet and greet and seat, it'll be about one to two posts per important attendee. Roll for all your Social maneuvers as well as Perception and Empathy for each person who enters.

[Jaqen]

August is outfitted in a tailored-to-modern version of his era-gone suits. It is black, and modest and quite without frills. In his mind August could hear Amellio's voice Mass is not a place to peacock August, now go change at once and leave your pride in the closet. August sighed as the thought passed and Crispin speaks up.

Galloway looks up from his well polished shoes, and with a mock exasperation. "Honestly Crispin, you'd loose your head if it weren't attached." he said in that southern accent. He gives a good natured laugh and plays along stroking his beard. "I suppose I shall, go on and be quick."


August straightens his tie, and puts on his best face as his Blood Brother heads off. Making sure his Dakes annotated KJV bible was in hand, the most holy of holy bibles at 90$ online, 125$ if you bought it from the church gift shop. It was the single bit of preening he could get away with, and dammit he certainly would.

Finally, he took Crispins mark, and waited for the flock to come his excitement hidden beneath a facade of seriousness.

[Brownlee]

Per usual, the first arrivals are inconsequential neonates. August seats them according to their importance, but one suggests that August might sit him closer to the front, where he might have "incidental" occasion to banter with Amelio. The man suggests that he could be of great future worth to August if August would just grant him that one small favor--hardly a favor at all, really.

Some others have arrived when August returns to his position, but don't look to be in any hurry to be seated: cattle, milling about with all but bells around their necks, exchanging hollow unfelt sentiments which could all be translated: Moo.

[ri]https://os-up.com/uploads/filme/actors_photos/nm2298370.jpg[/ri]And then a familiar face enters--Lakewood, the Invictus Hound--a beautiful woman wrapped around his arm--different than the one he'd brought the week before. "August." He smiles; it looks genuine, even if it's not, and the effort, at least, means something. He doesn't trouble with introducing the woman, in fact he barely seems to notice her. "The powers that be bless you." He winks--ambiguous enough to please nearby faithful but also maintain the integrity of his personal non-faith. "How does the evening find you? Talk with me while we walk?" He waits for August's lead.

Perception on Lakewood: 1 suxx

You perceive yourself being perceived, not scrutinized for error--more a man noticing your tactics and wishing they were known to his own Estate.

Empathy on Lakewood: 2 suxx

Midnight Mass is a tired charade to him. He'll want his normal middle-row seat--not important, but not unimportant either--one on the end so he can excuse himself once or twice to check his phone or smoke a cigarette

Perception on Lakewood's Date: 2 suxx

She's missing an earring and her makeup was recently reapplied--best bet: their ride over had been erotic.

Empathy on Lakewood's Date: 1 suxx

She's not into Midnight Mass, but she is very into August.

[Jaqen]

August gave the man suggesting a different seating a...firm...but polite denial.

"Oh, now you know this isn't what the Mass is about." Pot meet kettle. "That's what the Bishop would say. But afterwards...afterwards I can make introductions if the situation presents itself..." Galloway smiled before heading back to his station.

He was pleased to see that the crowd had slowed, and he looked over to see a familiar face. "James, so good to see you." he said perfectly pleased as a peach as he took the lead towards Lakewoods preferred seat. He took the long route, around the other side of the rows, giving the impression he was finding the right seat for the honored Hound of the Invictus, giving them a few extra moments to talk. "I have a moment, at least until others arrive. Mustn't shirk away from my duties at the behest of social graces."

He gives the female guest a once over, seemingly uninterested. Here today, gone tomorrow morning, just like the last one... thought the Icarian to himself.

[Brownlee]

If James notices August leading them by the scenic route, he makes no mention of it. "Got an email from the Reverend, asking me to stay after service. Sounds like a go-fetch tasking. Know anything? You know me: hate surprises." Perhaps a private conversation, but hidden in plain sight. Others there are more interested in their own pleasantries, or the calves on James' escort. It seems she has political use after all--distraction. Brilliant in its simplicity. A man begins towards them to interrupt and she cuts him off, bats her eyes, and laughs politely, asking questions and feigning interest, like the whole routine had been rehearsed.

On stage, three wholesome looking band members begin shuffling about: testing their equipment and making hand motions toward the sound manager in the back.

James continues. "I know the First Estate is the Second in this city, and the Second the First, but some would argue--not me, of course--that hot passion goes best behind cold logic, not the other way around." He tips his head to the pool being carted beside the stage by a deacon. The itinerary celebrates what will be the Reverend's fourth blood baptism--actually blood--in the months since he's served. James' candor would put him at risk with many others who agreed or didn't, but the unspoken truth between them had always been that they were similar, proud but charitable souls.

On Lakewood: Empathy +2; 1 suxx

His usually stalwart resolve seems weakened by disbelief in the cause his efforts serve. If he'd wanted to hide this from August, he could have.

His date returns, having warded off the paparazzi, and picks a piece of lint which might not even have been there from August's shoulder. Her smile fades as she sees the man at the front of the line at the door, waiting to be seated.

[ri]http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/02/Bernardo_Strozzi_-_Claudio_Monteverdi_(c.1630).jpg[/ri]It's a grave stoic face August has seen many a time before. In truth, there were others in line before him, but that yielded to Amelio, who is a glacier in immensity of presence, unyielding direction, and personal warmth. (If August approaches next turn: Where's Crispin? will be his first words and greeting. His seat is front and center, of course.)

[Jaqen]

Emp 3suxx

  

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2015-01-26 16:44:06		August Galloway rolls 3 to Wits+Emp(-1)+2 (10 Again)		9, 10, 9, 5		3 successes

"After service? Can't say that I do..." Which was slightly odd, and this fact was more clear in Augusts voice for Lakewoods sake than it would be for any other of the Damned in the city.

He noticed in his friends voice the tell tale desperation that accompanies lost Faith. August could in fact relate. "Later tonight we should get a drink, discuss what's burdening you..." he gave a smile first more genuinely and comforting to James, and then less so, but still kindly to Lakewoods distraction piece as she picked off some lint or something. The smile didn't falter as he followed her gaze to his Sire.

"Well, it would look like it's time for me to go. Enjoy the service you two."





Where's Crispin? Yes of course, not how are you, not good to see you my Childe...just straight to business.

"Wardrobe malfunction, he should be back soon." August deadpanned to his Sire upon arrival and questioning. He walked his Sire down toward his proper place. "Anything I can help you with before, during, or after service Reverend?" he asked casually.

[Brownlee]

[ri]http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/02/Bernardo_Strozzi_-_Claudio_Monteverdi_(c.1630).jpg[/ri]"That boy . . ." There's a lot to Amelio's tone: frustration, amusement, and as close to affection as August had ever heard in his Sire's voice. August's, however, was a perfection taken for granted--his own fault really--as happens when the exceptional comes to be expected. Perhaps there was some dread similarity between they two, though not one entire; at least there would always be Crispin to be the bridge between them.

It is Amelio who ends up leading August to his own seat; he stays one stride ahead of his Childe. His polished oak cane with its embroidered silver handle is always a step before him. Great utility to that, not a crutch, but as close to scepter as his "piety" would allow. It is an extension of reach, something that ennobles pointing or brushing aside, and one whack--as many had felt--drives home whatever behavioral modification the Reverend feels vocal about. "There is something you could do for me." He pulls a much-exaggerated antique key from his pocket--the one to his office door on the second floor. "On my desk there is a mahogany box. Bring it down and store it behind the pulpit for me, would you? I'll find someone else to replace you at the door."

Empathy + 3 (Very Familiar) on Amelio: 1 suxx

There is a sinister sort of pleasure, barely there on the wry line of his lips when he mentions the box. He is also displeased to be giving anyone a key to his office, for whatever reason or length, but can't be bothered with such organizational details when he has the whole of the sermon on his mind.

"One more thing: saw you speaking with the Dog"--Amelio's overt disapproval of Lakewood, Atlanta's Hound, in display--"He seem or say anything . . . off, or perhaps impious to you? Keep an eye on him for me, will you? He seems to trust you, for whatever reason."

You can continue conversation with him if you like. If you move to comply, give me 2 Perception rolls, one for en route to the office and one for upon entering. Take whatever part in describing the scene you like. I'm enjoying this.

[Jaqen]

Emp 2suxx

  

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2015-01-29 17:25:56		August Galloway rolls 4 to Wits+Emp(-1)+3 (10 Again)		1, 3, 9, 8		2 successes

"I think he is weary tonight...however I have plans to speak with him later. I could guide the conversation where you would like it to go." August offered as he took the key, no need to say he would do as he was told. The Reverend knew, August knew. There never was a request, simply a command to be obeyed.

After hearing what information the Bishop would like to learn from the Hound, August will go to the office to get the box; rolls are as follows;

2 Suxx En Route

  

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2015-01-29 17:32:36		August Galloway rolls 5 to Wits+Comp (En Route) (10 Again)		1, 10, 7, 5, 5, 10, 1		2 successes

1 Suxx In Office

  

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2015-01-29 17:33:41		August Galloway rolls 5 to Wits+Comp (In Office) (10 Again)		1, 10, 7, 6, 2, 5		1 success

For description purposes

The Reverends office reflects his medieval beginnings, the floor is carpeted a cool blue, the walls are hung with fire and brimstonesque biblical portraits, and various other trappings of the darker side of religion. On the whole, they are not the focus of the room however. Instead they are the seam on the garment, bright and attracting but only in so much as it complements the complete Holyness of the Inner Sanctum.

Rest of the descriptions up to you, I tried to be vague enough to not be overbearing in the ST description area.

[Brownlee]

"Don't you think your Brother, Crispin, would make a fine Hound?" Amelio leaves it at that, not subtle in his suggestion that August find something to disqualify Lakewood from his current position.

As August passes through the gathered Kindred--Sanctified, or Sanctified for the hour--he gets a pretty constistant feel of dread, maybe about whatever surprise the service held; even the ones who shared Amelio's beliefs, didn't match his degree of belief. Leave it to the masses to be moderate enough to stand in the middle and survive anybody's reign.

As August passes through the hallway, he hears shuffling in a broom closet--the loving kind, not the fighting kind. A voice, it's . . . Crispin's? "You ready to lose your other earring?" A giggle. "Where's your belt?" (You can roll Memory (INT + COMP) up to twice: once for the missing earring, and once for the voice, to know that the woman is Lakewood's date.)

In the office, blue below and brimstone about, the box is where Amelio said it would be, polished and smack-center on his desk--no lock, just an ornate clasp. Had August ever been in that office unaccompanied before? Outside, the band has started playing music--no words. That's usually their attempt to get people moved to their seats; the service would start in about ten minutes.

Open action to you: search the office, open the box or don't, talk to Crispin or don't--it's on you.

[Jaqen]

Hmm...Not really who I'd have gone after... Idle thoughts? Perhaps. He does have a drink date later this evening.

Something to gossip with his Brother about later...

August picks up the box and looks inside. After all, the Reverend hadn't said not to look. He even had hinted something more to his task, hadn't he? Just a quick peak however, can't dally to long.

The Icarian peers inside and then return to the congregation, hopefully quickly enough to avoid arousing the Reverends paranoia.