The Pastor Is In

[Conner Wells]

The doors of the Moore House are unlocked. Though Conner's not too worried. His keen ears are apprised of any sounds coming from the foyer, and he stands just inside the sanctuary looking through a notepad and occasionally scribbling down thoughts that come to him. The House's reputation as an abandoned sacred place has kept it safe from curious tourists, desperate homeless, and superstitious criminals. And most of the resident beasts now know this place as home to a superior predator.

And besides...Conner's expecting a visitor...
Adeline Martin

[Adeline Martin]

Adeline was preciscely on time. Not early, which she considered rude, and not late: which was also rude or at least showed a bit of laziness in ones ability to show up at an appointed time.

She had her hair in a french twist tight to her head, a pair of sparkling diamond studs that caught the light when she moved her head or the light caught them randomly. She wore a beautiful v-neck floral print dress in pale blue silk with white flowers scatterd through the print, delicate buttons almost like the ones you would find on a corset showed in the front detail. The arms of the dress were deliberately oversized with draped material, and the skirt went all the way down to about midway calf, and was a mermaid style. She wore a pair of white Mary Jane's on her feet which made little noise, handy were those rubber soles. She wore neutral toned makeup, and neutral nail polish.

What was not neutral however was the perfume she wore. Even the most obtuse could smell it was expensive. It was something heady, rich, and with layers of depth, a warm scent. The kind that reminded one of tropical nights and humid air.

She had driven herself in her jeep, so she parked in front and headed inside quickly. Not dilly dallying.

"Hello?" She called softly, though when she expanded her hearing she heard Conner coming towards her as they met in the hall. When she saw him she smiled softly. "Good evening Conner. It's nice to see you again."

[Conner Wells]

Wheels approaching…

Conner looks up from his writing and sets the pad down on a side table as he approaches the doors.

Doors opening. Familiar facescentsmellFOEPROTECTHOMEDRIVEOUTKILL…
Curious soul.

Conner is briefly battered by paranoid predator impulses as an uncloaked Beast enters his place of worship and quiet. But he calms himself with the reminder that he was once in a similar position himself: a new face in a familiar yet unfamiliar landscape. He was shown courtesy then. It would only make sense to show courtesy now.

“Adeline. Good to see you as well.” He’s dressed in his pastor’s clothes, minus the ceremonial gear. He feels underdressed in comparison to Adeline, but really with her looks he’d feel underdressed in Armani finery. “Would you feel comfortable in my office? Or the sanctuary.” Both places are empty, save for the two of them, but one is more private than the other. And Conner wants to make sure Adeline is comfortable for the incoming conversation.

Per the ladies’ preference, Conner walks with her until they’ve reached the room of choice before turning to her. “I believe you’d expressed an interest in Covenant history earlier?” He holds his hands wide as if to say ‘I’m an open book’. “If you’re interested in my personal walk with the Lancea, then I’ll start by saying that I was…raised, for lack of a better term in the Westminster tradition. I’m sure you’re at least familiar with the basics of the Protestant Reformation in 16th century Europe? There was a similar movement in Kindred Circles; a breaking away from what is now called the Monachal Creed, which itself was formed alongside Catholicism. As for the specifics, I’d love to know where your inquiries begin. Just so as not to bore you with trivia.”

He allows a chuckle at his own expense. Conner knows he can get excited at the prospect of sharing his knowledge with others. Especially at the thought of getting something in return.

[Adeline Martin]

“Your office would be fine, Conner,” she said in slightly softer tones than usual. She chuckled a bit when she noticed herself. “There is something about a Sanctuary that just makes one lower their tone, and fold their hands, and be on their best behavior. Hmmm” She tilted her head slightly as she mused.


“Please, lead the way.” Though she didn’t stall the conversation as they moved through Moorehouse she listened to him. Taking care to nod at the appropriate points, and watch him as he spoke. Listening to the spaces between his pauses. His word choice. The cadence of his speech. He sounded excited.


“Yes. I’d like to know more about the different factions within the Lancea Sanctum. I mean, obviously my danse has been influenced by the church's teachings.” She knew he figured that much, and she had shared some of her hunting habits with him. Such things had been influenced by the teachings. She nodded when he asked about her understanding of the basics of kine history. She was secretly happy as fucking hell she wasn’t alive during that time.


“So the Monachal Creed would be the more political arm, and the Westminister more the spiritual ones?” She asked, as she settled herself when they entered the office. “Is there any other dominant faction within the Church?” She asked softly. She was clearly trying to understand how it all fit together.

[Conner Wells]

In truth, Conner's glad she chose the office. "That does make it hard to have conversation." He smiles at the joke. "Certainly part of the design: to remove distraction and heighten wonder."

Conner's office is humbly furnished with a desk, some bookshelves, and several boxes of books that have yet to be loaded onto said shelves. The only item of note within the office is technically hidden at the moment: Conner's sword sits on his side of the desk occulted by Shadow. Conner directs Adeline to the chair opposite his own at the desk and takes a seat. "In a sense..." ​Conner ponders briefly how to best untangle the messy relationship between the Creeds. "The Creeds function less as arms of a single body and more as denominations of the same faith with different foci. The Westminster Creed believes that governing is best left to secular bodies, and take on a more advisory role. So you'll rarely find a Westminster-dominant Lancea as the chief Covenant of a Domain like the Invictus or Carthians. This has created friction with the Monachal Creed since they believe the ONLY way to secure a Domain's soul is to rule it politically and spiritually."

"There is also the Tollison Creed, born out of the Pentecostal denomination; the Dammitic Creed born out of Judaism; and the Iblic Creed born out of Islam. These main five make up the primary 'denominations' of the Lancea Sanctum. How they co-exist or whether they co-exist in any Domain is never the same." ​He gestures one way, then another, as if flinging the corners of a map out to observe it. "From what I gathered from the conversations of other Kindred in my old home, the relationship was dependent on who had the largest role in the Covenant at any given time, and whether separate facilities existed for worship. Apart from that, they exist much like denominations of Christianity." He shrugs. "Does that make sense?"

"The Monachal Creed holds some weight above the others since it's existed the longest, has the largest reach, and contains many of the loudest voices. So in that sense, I would call them the more dominant faction. But again, it varies on the Domain and who's preaching. But positions of authority are typically respected across Creeds; like Pastors and Cardinals." He sighs. ​"That's most of what I know about the 'political' side of the Lancea. My Sire deliberately walked a path of private faith and being an active arm of the Covenant against its enemies. She taught me the Testament alongside swordplay and investigative skills."

Conner stops to 'breathe' as Adeline takes this information in. "You said the church 'taught' you much. You obviously took those teachings to heart. What attracted you to them?"

[Adeline Martin]

The fact that he had admitted it, earned him some points with her. Though she didn't let on anything, just simply nodded to show she was listening. That playful bemused smile on her face.

Adeline restrained herself from offereing to help him shelve his books. To snoop. It was such a brazen idea that even she was shocked at the audacity the urge prompted. She took it as a sign that her interest was starting to run deeper than just his covenant. A thing she noted with surprise inside. While she was certain it was true, she wasn't sure what that actually meant.

She nodded. "So the Monachal creed believes in dominion, while the Westminster Creed believes in secular rule while influencing the spiritual through ministry work." Not cramming down people's throats, eh? That was a very very human idea. Democratic even. Ohhh she bet the Monachal Creed and the Westminister creed would be philosophical enemies within the church alright.

"It makes sense," she said finally after some silent contemplation. She also thought it was fortunate for Conner that only he had any influence of the church at this time. She could only imagine the chaos that would cause in a domain to have two warring factions vying for the control of the soul of a city.

"Ahh.." she said softly at his confession. "I can see that as being a good way to avoid the maelstrom of political in fighting and make oneself valuable, but not to be looked upon as some rival that needed to be dispatched" It also meant that Conner's sire was most likely an Elder in her own right. Few Kindred had that power to tell their covenant they would serve as they pleased.

She giggled at his question. As in this they were very very similar. "My sire took some of the teachings of the church and incorporated it into his method of creating his own bloodline." She said softly. "I believe that the teachings of the church and his devotion had an impact even he couldn't have forseen." Yes, the Adrestoi were a unique breed of Ventrue. The full weight of the truth finally hit her, and she sat back in her chair looks like she was seriously thinking about something.

[Conner Wells]

"Yes! Exactly. That's a good, concise way of looking at it." Conner nods affirmatively as Adeline defines the differing Creeds for herself. ​"Historical baggage aside, there's no reason the various Creeds CAN'T coexist. It's just a matter of choice." And whether or not somebody's out to get someone else.

Conner hears Adeline use the word 'dispatched' in the context of his Sire and...laughs. Like, a good, honest laugh for a few seconds. "Oh, she suffered no rivals. Not even me!" There's a few key moments in his history with Rowan and himself that flash before his mind's eye: moments of harsh but purposeful instruction, intense study, and rare interpersonal connections. "But she respected equals, and she has a great respect for the Lancea Sanctum and its mission. That respect and loyalty earned her many powerful friends, which in and of itself is its own political resource: let others do your maneuvering for you."

"Bloodline?" Now that's a topic he hasn't thought of in a while now. Not since Quinn confronted him about Maiev and her heritage as well as his own potential heritage. "So you're actively part of a Bloodline connected with the Lancea?" Now this was a juicy piece of information. Conner's own knowledge only extends to the Bloodlines of Clan Mekhet...so far. A tool to be twisted against the Ventrue?

But Conner's maniacal, predatory thoughts are paused when Adeline sits back, looking deep in thought. His expression changes to concern and just a hint of curiosity. "Adeline...is there something on your mind?" Something deeper than Shadow secret-lust guides his question: a genuine interest in solving another being's problems. Or perhaps the validation of being the one to solve those problems?

[Adeline Martin]

“Choice falls strangely on the shoulders of the Kindred. There is much we cannot or did not choose for ourselves in our Danse. So when we have the ability to choose something, whether that be a path or an ideal or just making the choice to overcome differences: all too often we choose rancor of tranquility, we choose strife instead of a natural ideation. When I am given a choice, I usually try to choose not the first thing that comes to me, or the second, but land on the third. Choosing a rational and balanced response I find to be best. So while they can coexist, chances are one will try to devour the other if given the chance. It’s our nature.” Playing nice only lasted as long as the advantage of doing so.


She delighted in the sound of his life, and grinned in response to it. It sounded as if it was pulled forth from him. As if he hadn’t expected to laugh. Those were the best kind! A dark whisper in her heart wondered: How long has it been since you laughed like that? Self analysis could come later. She shoved that away somewhere even though the glaring reality was staring her right in the face. “I see. My sire was exacting as well.” And ate his sire. So there's always that. There have been times she could sympathize with the urge. The ghastly implications of that though, was a haunting prospect. To her knowledge she was the only of his childer that he had told that secret too, or perhaps that was just her ego wishing that to be the case.


“I hadn’t thought it was connected, but the more I speak with you, and think of what I have read of the Testament, I believe that to be the case.” She pursed her lips slightly, and looked rather pensive for a moment, literally weighing how much to share. “At least provided some inspiration and with his will and beliefs it marked us by our blood.” His savagery had something to do with that, but the whole God’s Wolves bit might have been taken so far as to make the tie to their blood, their ability to reach their best selves only through being well fed was so damning she wondered why she didn’t make the connection before.


She quoted then:


I saw the proof of my power over the mortal sheep; I kept the hungry wolves
in the boiling cauldron of my heart.
And the mixture is a miracle, and has raised the Predator over the Prey.
Blood burns like the fire. Blood thunders like the storm.
Blood runs freely and stains the earth through eternity, for we only have the
appearance of eternity, but the Blood remains.
I knew that I must become the master of the Blood or forever be its slave.
And I rejoiced, for I knew I was Damned, and that God willed it so.

[Conner Wells]

Adeline sounds like she’s had a good long time to think on choices. I envy you. He nods, ruefully smiling as she mentions the Kindred tendency to turn on one another. A tendency they were in defiance of right at this moment. A moment purchased by years of restraint, training, sacrifice, or any combination of the above. “Nature yes; amplified by our curse, which exists beyond nature.”

”That’s a good word for it: ‘exacting’. Not that I regret her teaching.” He stops, honestly puzzled for a second. “You know, I guess I’ve been in survival mode for so long, I don’t know if I’ve really thought on her methods or…” But there is regret there: gaping like an open, hungry wound. Just not born of the Embrace…or at least not in whole. “Like you said, choice in our lifetimes, such as they are, is a blessing when it’s found and longed for in our better moments.”

So damn furtive! Hiding behind her precious Bloodline and it’s secrets. The knowledge-lusting monster yearns for details. To rip secrets out of throat and memory. And Conner struggles to smother it for a precious few seconds until he hears the Testament quoted to him. “You sound like your interest in the Testament is beyond mere curiosity.“ There’s a CS Lewis pun there. “Adeline, have you ever considered joining the Church?” He can’t deny the thought had harried him since she’d participated in Communion last. Since she out of those few gathered showed willingness to partake, to willingly reach out and accept a power greater than blood and fang. And maybe, just maybe, there was that little devilish voice in his head that whispers promises of greatness if only he could find someone to join him in this burden of governing the soul of the Domain.

[Adeline Martin]

She didn't smile when he struggled with his emotions, but watched with fascination. She couldn't remember what that felt like. Regret wasn't something she felt anymore. Sure there were things she had done that were errors in judgment and just plain shiesty in others. Manipulations that went awry, or were not actually needed that broke a trust here and there. Throughout all of that somewhere she had lost the ability to truly regret her choices that she had made. Regret was living in the past, which was very human. There were amends she wished she could make, but that was longing, not regret.


"My relationship with my sire is overall a good one. I bear him no ill will. He did what he had to do to make me powerful enough to survive on my own. Anywhere I choose to be. At one time I thought I would have a life of making music and entertaining, but unlife is very very fulfilling in so many ways. It has opened doors to pursue endless fonts of knowledge and seeking out Aldrich abilities. The possibilities truly are endless, but I cannot be so visible as to be an entertainer on the level I imagined myself while I was Kine." She shrugged a little, letting it go.


She watched him for a long moment before answering. "I have. I want to make a thorough examination of each covenant before I approach to join one. I don't know a lot of the deeper meanings behind each, so that's why I am here and am peppering you with my impertinence. Trying to learn where I fit in our society on a more permanent basis!"