Father M. @fathermofsin - Tumblr Blog

∆ Intrōductĭo ∆

There's a new young priest in town, his name is Father M.

A fellow member of the Clergy who came back from Italy where he was spreading the word of Satan...or so they say.

He's a shy guy fixated with order and discipline, but his voice and appearance are far from being intimidating, nobody ever saw him kill a fly, but maybe is just a facade, who knows.

A man in his 30s with pale skin dotted with moles, he has shoulder length wavy brown hair that he always have in a low ponytail, a thick lock of natural gray hair frames part of his face.

He's slim, height around 170cm and he wears a pair of gold old fashioned glasses, he always has gloves on, says he's not comfortable with touching people with bare hands.

He's a supervisor, trying to not let the ghouls and human alike make a mess of the abbey, someone like to call him a killjoy or a party pooper. There's a bet, around the ghouls especially, to finally make him snap or better...make him high. For now nobody is winning, yet.

He has gray eyes that tends towards violet, also ghouls with a great sense of smell have said before that he smells weird and not like other humans, luckily to him they seem to find it quirky and not at all concerning.

∆ classified informations..

Malachia is an angel in disguise sent by the Vatican City to infiltrate the Clergy, his mission is to pass precious informations to the catholic church in regards of the Ministry plan to take over the world and spreading the word of Satan through Ghost.

#ghost rp #rp blog #ghost oc #about father m

vileincarnations

This is a permanent open starter for 𝔏𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯 (𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱).

Twenty centuries and visits to his Ministry had grown no less tedious; he was subjected to the same ritual courtship, the grovelling and grift of his Clergy, the superabundance of compliments and acts of service. Barefaced sycophancy. Flagrant superficiality. Did they not know he was the Father of Lies? You cannot deceive the Great Deceiver. Perhaps he should be impressed! By the guile, by the gall, of his own followers: what a paradox.

The truth is until the First Seal is broken, the affairs of The Unhallowed Church are inconsequential, much less the squabbling amongst senior members of The Clergy. How many Popes had he seen come and go? On the Throne of St. Peter and Leviathan? He can feign interest for only so long, and his patience is waning fast; boredom, the most diabolical punishment of all, so unsophisticated but so loathsomely effective. He fabricates a dubious reason to duck out of the convocation and breathes a sigh of relief as he exits the stuffy chapel and into the moonlight.

The priory comes to life at night, the ghouls chittering and chirping amongst themselves in the far recesses of the courtyard, and the Siblings of Sin slaving away to keep the rectory in habitable condition; wintering in the uninsulated halls of the cloisters could be Hellish, so to speak, but anywhere was warmer than Lake Cocytus. Though his vessel suffers from windbitten cheeks and numb fingertips, the Hellfire that burns inside of him keeps his soul warm. Chilled hands delve into the lining of his jacket and he retrieves a monogrammed cigarette case; flipping the lid, he plucks an unfiltered cigarette from within and lights it with a snap of his fingers.

Tobacco, he inhales, delicious.

That’s when he spots another, lurking in the doorway, and he greets them with an arched eyebrow and an offered cigarette: «Buonasera.» Good evening. “Can I tempt you with a cigarette?”

𝑵𝑶𝑵-𝑹𝑷 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑺 𝑫𝑶 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻.

fathermofsin

Today was the day, after so many weeks of preparation from the highest rank to the newest of ghouls, they were all so thrilled for this evening to come and with it the man, the Devil himself to cross the aisles with his suffocating presence and undeniable charisma. The rumors were spreading between siblings and ghouls since weeks before the fomal announcement, the excitement palpable, almost electric, in the rush of voices and bodies ready to please. But in the middle of the chaos, the joy and the anticipation there was a man who's true feelings were hidden behind a perfectly crafted mask.

He wasn't mentally prepared to meet him this soon, the conflict was inevitable but they all were far from the day of judgment and the great battle that would unleash. Even the Vatican, as a response to one of his concerned missive about the subject, said that he had nothing to fear and that if he was so affected by the presence of the Morningstar to not engage in any ways with him during his visit. As they said, there're as many spies in both of their factions and with that an ancient game of pretend.

So the day came and he is dressed in one of his fancier suit as they asked him to do, deep violet, almost black with a white drape embracing his body, hair down with just some braids holding back some fringe from the sides of his clean face. He stays in the darkest corners, watching him during the function and dinner, as he talks, and drinks, and laughs. So when the Devil steps outside, he follows. There on the threshold, the glow from inside the halls envelopes his dark figure with a warm halo while the cold breeze caresses his cheeks while he decide what to do, but the other man his quicker than him and so with a glass of red wine in his gloved hand he makes his first step right in the wolf's den. « With no offence, but I'll be a fool to fall for the Devil temptation. Don't you think? »

cepheusgalaxy

Top traits to give a character

Self-sacrificing

Self-loathing

Insufferable

It/its pronouns

Homosexuality

Aromanticism

Gender (the more the better)

A superiority complex

Dead eyed stare

Inability to process own emotions

Dog motif

#Malachia in a nutshell except the aromanticism

musapaidika-deactivated20260323

boys with long lashes are angels sent down to earth. it is imperative that you begin to worship your local boy with beautiful long eyelashes like a baby deer immediately.

#;malachia

salomeslashes

Not priest kink as in "bless me, Father, for I have sinned" but priest kink as in "where is your god now, father?"

#;spicy father confession

vileincarnations

For @fathermofsin, cont. from here: (x)

"It was not a name I chose, but rather, it was chosen for me by the man who summoned me to your decaying, mortal plane. Al-kīmiyā was experiencing something of a resurgence during the Islamic Golden Age. Mankind," the ghoul says with sneering contempt, "in its futile pursuit of immortality, had turned to the wisdom of the ancients, hoping to unlock the secret to eternal life. For many years I was enslaved by one who called himself an "alchemist", imprisoned in his laboratory, until I conferred upon him my wisdom. My jailer called me many things: daimōn, djinn, and Azoth, on account of my eyes; mercurial, like quicksilver, he said," Azoth expounds. "I like to think I have been just as instrumental, just as fundamental to the progress of mankind, here at the Ministry." And his chin juts with pride.

"Pen an parchment has a certain... intimacy, an immediacy, which digital conveniences lack. A kindred spirit, indeed." The ghoul cannot conceal his pride as the Padre compliments him on his Italian: clasping his hands cordially behind his back and tucking his chin with humility. "I confess, I have a preference for Latin over the vulgar tongue, but your poets have done much for the language since its inception."

After such a congenial exchange, the last thing the ghoul expects is for the cleric to challenge him. This human, he sure had some nerve.

A low lick of laughter rumbles from behind the ghoul's mask. "Threatening you?" His snakelike pupils narrow to slits, and he strides closer, looming over the the diminutive human with his peculiar odour. "Padre," he purrs, and with a single, slender claw he combs the Father's fringe out of his eyes, teasing the sleek, silver streak threaded into his skull. "You would know if I was threatening you..." And he lifts the lower half of his mask to sniff the confrontational man.

fathermofsin

He remains silent listening to the ghoul narrating his past life before the Ministry with a solemnity in the deep chords of his voice, although it was clear to his ears how the hatred slithered through the ghoul's words. Azoth hated the man, there was not doubt about it - so why was he so blindly devoted to an institution tha was treating him like his former enslaver? Maybe they were not so different from eachother, him and the demon, but it was not a thought to dwell upon right now nor later.

« Mi trovate d'accordo, maybe we should try to convince the Clergy to return to paper and quill. It would be nice to receive more letters, especially of important matters - » he's trying to contain his excitement in the ghoul's presence, he shouldn't show this part of him to anyone involved in the worshipping of The Evil One. With a coff he tries to clear his voice, for a moment his eyes are downcast, ashamed. « Perdonatemi, it's rare to find, as you say, a kindred spirit these days. It got me a bit giddy - so unprofessional.. »

Malachia is not expecting the low laughter after his serious question and even less the space between them rapidly decreasing until the demon is cornering him, between his imposing frame and the chapel's pews. The smell of sulphur is too much to bare, making him dizzy in their closeness. He feels his touch burying itself in the roots of his hair, deep under the scalp and his heart is suddenly beating faster in his chest making the knees a bit weaker from all the stimuli. He should put an end to all of this. A gloved hand reaches for the ghoul chest just under the neck, pushing the man in an attempt to put some needed space between them . «You should behave properly, Azoth -» there's a firmness in the priest hushed admonition and meanwhile is graish eyes are staring fiercely in the silver's one of the taller ghoul, however it's not difficult for a keen eye to spot how his ears are red from embarrassment.

#;azoth #;ghouls interaction

fathermofsin

I guys, just wanted to say that I'm taking a few days break from rp, don't worry I'll be back from this weekend on. I needed some days off but I can't wait to return here asap 💜

fathermofsin

Well a few days became 5 months...

Anyway now that my job became more stable I want to return here and continue the lore of Malachia so if you want to rp w us leave me a dm!

#;ooc

I guys, just wanted to say that I'm taking a few days break from rp, don't worry I'll be back from this weekend on. I needed some days off but I can't wait to return here asap 💜

#;ooc

rosieofcorona

"need him bouncing and moaning on it" ok well i need him whimpering and renouncing god on it

#;spicy father confession

vileincarnations

Plotted starter for @fathermofsin from 𝕬𝖟𝖔𝖙𝖍:

Plucking another envelope from the sloping stack upon his desk, Azoth arches a wicked brow. The penmanship is as pristine as it is foreign to him, inked with all the precision of an Italian humanist scholar, without a smudge of ink blotting the parchment. Slicing open the envelope with the serrated edge of his claw, he plucks the tri-folded missive from its immaculate vessel, and sharp, silver eyes scan the page.

Summons. Solicitation of his presence, regarding recent conduct of the ghouls around the Ministry. Beneath, a laundry list of the malice and mischief the diabolical denizens of the abbey have been embroiling themselves in over the past month. With pinched lips and a jaded sigh, Azoth uncaps his fountain pen and begins to compose his reply. His reply to... A Father M., one of Copia's recent recruits, he's sure. Azoth had heard the pettegolezzo (not that an individual of his station would ever indulge such trivialities) about the reclusive minister, and their aversion to recreational activities of any kind. They had certainly caused quite a stir.

Slotting the irreverend father into his schedule, Azoth pens a swift and succinct reply to their office before handing the communique off to his secretary.

'Egregio Don M., Ci incontreremo domani alle diciassette nell'oratorio. Distinti saluti, Azoth Ufficio del Delegato per i Ghoul'

He would nip this issue in the bud before it ever reached the ears of The Clergy.

fathermofsin

When They talked to him about the mission he imagined the place he was going would be different in so many ways, an unholy ground full of sinners both human and demonic in nature, a place not made for an angel to walk in.

He knew the dangers of his mission, They made it clear that he needed to be discreet and not to be found out, whatever the cost. But the Ministry - oh - it was a place filled with filth and blasfemy.

It was a month after his arrival that he decided to take business into his own hands, from his supervisor position ,although fake, he wrote words with impeccable precision regarding the current state of the demonic spawns infesting the abbey ground. Directed to no less than the Head of the pack.

The ghoul answer was quick to arrive at his desk, but the father sharp words were greeted with a proposal to meet in person, something that Malachia was non happy to read. He heard how the siblings spoke of the older ghoul, how they're both afraid and intrigued by his stoic and intimidating presence. So it was normal from him to clutch in his gloved hands the fragil paper of a yellowed missive while standing behind the closed oratorio doors.

He was not afraid, he knows how to defend himself such is the nature of a Dominion, so why a trembling sigh left his lips when he finally decided to open the door and meet the demon?

vileincarnations

Azoth's ears prick up as he hears the scuffing of shoes upon the Ministry's paved floors, and he pivots on his heel to face the narthex as the door creaks open. Illuminated by the sunlight slanting through the clerestory, the ghoul takes in the the cleric standing before him, with his foppish fronds of dark hair and pale grey eyes, hemmed in by a pair of ornate, gold glasses. Father M. was everything his baroque penmanship had promised, and some.

"Father M., I presume?" The ghoul's baritone voice reverberates within the oratory, resonating off of the medieval stone walls. "Azoth, delegate for the ghouls," he introduces himself, crossing the chapel in several, sharp strides and thrusting out his hand in a cordial, if slightly officious, manner. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The ghoul flinches almost imperceptibly as he draws near, as a pernicious and ambiguous odour snakes up his nostrils and inflames his hindbrain. It's faint, and perturbing, and utterly overpowered by the perfume emanating from the Padre.

"If we could make this brief, I would be interminably grateful. My presence is required elsewhere before the hour is through, it would seem your grievances hold far more merit than I initially thought."

fathermofsin

There's only the creak of the door opening interrupting an almost religious silence there in the oratory, like he just broke a seal meant to not be touched. He's there, down the aisle, a man, no a demon dressed in what he remembers being the former ghouls uniform, different from the new cardinal's guidelines of the demons attire.

His attentive gaze is locked on his frame, looking quitely at the way the different colours of the stained glass reflects on his silver mask, there's a sort of anticipation building inside him, in being here after a month of correspondences regarding their work.

The angel is suddenly aware of the other presence before him, of his deep voice shuttering the silence between them like the distance now zeroed by wide strides. He's tall.

« Indeed, but you can just call me Father, Mr Azoth.» His voice it's almost a whisper, but the gloved hand is grasping the ghoul's one in a firm shake. « We finally meet in person, never I thought it'll happen so soon. You surprised me.»

Smiling shyly at him he suddenly interrupts their handshake, his hands making their way behind his back, he's feeling their filth burning the palm of his hand just from a brief touch and it's making him nauseous for standing so close to the stench of sulphur.

« Oh yes...yes. I won't waste your time, I promise. We're all busy people so I'll try to make this quick. You read my last missive, right? »

vileincarnations

"Just 'Azoth' is fine, Padre, such is the name I was given upon my arrival here on the mortal plane," the mercurial ghoul intones, his eyes wrinkling with a fleeting, insincere smile. It had been some decades, perhaps, since anyone had deigned to call him - a ghoul - by Signore. It makes Azoth faintly uneasy. "I must say, your penmanship precedes you, I haven't seen such neat script in... Onestamente, not since I departed The Pit," he utters, half incredulous, half astonished. "Penmanship is an art form, and one which seems to have fallen out of favour in recent centuries."

Azoth can sense the man's trepidation, can practically smell it on him, perspiring beneath his cassock; but he comports himself fearlessly, nonetheless. "SÌ. I applaud your efficiency. "I cannot say your missive came as a surprise, but as ever, it was a disappointment. Ghouls should not be walking the Ministry unmasked, nor should they be loitering in human halls of residence. Believe me when I say the ghouls responsible will be apprehended and reprimanded forthwith, they know better than to conduct themselves in this manner."

"But please understand, the actions of a few ghouls do not represent majority, and I would be deeply dismayed if this misunderstanding of ours left this room," the ghoul warns with no absence of malice, his irises narrowing to snakelike slits. "Should it be elevated to the Curia, say, any resolution would be completely out on my hands." The last thing Azoth needed was for news of this infraction to reach the ears of Copia; it wasn't likely to endear him to the Cardinal, and he had every intention of making a stellar first impression.

"You appear to be a man of intelligence, I'm sure you must understand," Azoth hums, his eyes wrinkled with a malicious smile.

fathermofsin

He averts his gaze, there in the softly lit chapel the light of the sun is beginning to change into more pastel tones, the flebile rays of a starting sunset cast an orange light that illuminates their body in a rather ethereal way.

« Azoth.. » he let the letters roll on his tongue, burning from the tip to the back of his throat, feeling the numbness spreading in his mouth. « ..from the Beginning to the End, a fundamental essence for alchemy, it's a rather peculiar name don't you think? Now I can see why the Ministry entrusted you with such delicate matters.» He tilts his face back in the ghoul direction, but for a moment the priest eyes are obscured by the lenses reflection and the smiles delivered to the tall figure feels uncanny.

« Oh, what can I say old habits die hard. I always preferred the feeling of ink on paper over a cold and stale email, call me an old soul but I find penmanship an endearing hobby of mine. Yours is, needless to say, impeccable. And it was a surprise to learn that you also speak Italian, a pleasant one indeed. » A chuckle left his thin lips while the tips of his fingers brushed away from his face a wild strand of graily hair.

He remains silent while the ghoul speaks, gloved hand firmly holding themselves behind his back, facing his opponent with a straight back and fierce eyes. « Are you perhaps threatening me, my fiend ? »

#;azoth #;ghouls interaction

I honestly can't wait to write fallen!Malachia, just thinking about all the angst, the guilt but also they feeling truly free for the first time and learning to enjoy the things they were prohibited to experience.

#;OOC #ghost rp #ghost oc

aedearly

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis/headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.

[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ? [ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ? [ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ? [ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ? [ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ? [ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ? [ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ? [ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ? [ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ? [ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ? [ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? [ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ? [ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ? [ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ? [ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ? [ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ? [ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ? [ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ? [ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ? [ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ? [ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ? [ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ? [ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ? [ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ? [ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ? [ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ? [ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ? [ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ? [ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ? [ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ? [ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ? [ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ? [ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ? [ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ? [ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ? [ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ? [ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ? [ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ? [ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?

#;rp prompts

butterscotch-goat

when people like your OCs it is truly one of the best feelings ever. but when they also UNDERSTAND your OCs??? When they say or do something that just makes you go "oh they get it." UNBEATABLE.

#;OOC

vileincarnations

Plotted starter for @fathermofsin from 𝕬𝖟𝖔𝖙𝖍:

Plucking another envelope from the sloping stack upon his desk, Azoth arches a wicked brow. The penmanship is as pristine as it is foreign to him, inked with all the precision of an Italian humanist scholar, without a smudge of ink blotting the parchment. Slicing open the envelope with the serrated edge of his claw, he plucks the tri-folded missive from its immaculate vessel, and sharp, silver eyes scan the page.

Summons. Solicitation of his presence, regarding recent conduct of the ghouls around the Ministry. Beneath, a laundry list of the malice and mischief the diabolical denizens of the abbey have been embroiling themselves in over the past month. With pinched lips and a jaded sigh, Azoth uncaps his fountain pen and begins to compose his reply. His reply to... A Father M., one of Copia's recent recruits, he's sure. Azoth had heard the pettegolezzo (not that an individual of his station would ever indulge such trivialities) about the reclusive minister, and their aversion to recreational activities of any kind. They had certainly caused quite a stir.

Slotting the irreverend father into his schedule, Azoth pens a swift and succinct reply to their office before handing the communique off to his secretary.

'Egregio Don M., Ci incontreremo domani alle diciassette nell'oratorio. Distinti saluti, Azoth Ufficio del Delegato per i Ghoul'

He would nip this issue in the bud before it ever reached the ears of The Clergy.

fathermofsin

When They talked to him about the mission he imagined the place he was going would be different in so many ways, an unholy ground full of sinners both human and demonic in nature, a place not made for an angel to walk in.

He knew the dangers of his mission, They made it clear that he needed to be discreet and not to be found out, whatever the cost. But the Ministry - oh - it was a place filled with filth and blasfemy.

It was a month after his arrival that he decided to take business into his own hands, from his supervisor position ,although fake, he wrote words with impeccable precision regarding the current state of the demonic spawns infesting the abbey ground. Directed to no less than the Head of the pack.

The ghoul answer was quick to arrive at his desk, but the father sharp words were greeted with a proposal to meet in person, something that Malachia was non happy to read. He heard how the siblings spoke of the older ghoul, how they're both afraid and intrigued by his stoic and intimidating presence. So it was normal from him to clutch in his gloved hands the fragil paper of a yellowed missive while standing behind the closed oratorio doors.

He was not afraid, he knows how to defend himself such is the nature of a Dominion, so why a trembling sigh left his lips when he finally decided to open the door and meet the demon?

vileincarnations

Azoth's ears prick up as he hears the scuffing of shoes upon the Ministry's paved floors, and he pivots on his heel to face the narthex as the door creaks open. Illuminated by the sunlight slanting through the clerestory, the ghoul takes in the the cleric standing before him, with his foppish fronds of dark hair and pale grey eyes, hemmed in by a pair of ornate, gold glasses. Father M. was everything his baroque penmanship had promised, and some.

"Father M., I presume?" The ghoul's baritone voice reverberates within the oratory, resonating off of the medieval stone walls. "Azoth, delegate for the ghouls," he introduces himself, crossing the chapel in several, sharp strides and thrusting out his hand in a cordial, if slightly officious, manner. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The ghoul flinches almost imperceptibly as he draws near, as a pernicious and ambiguous odour snakes up his nostrils and inflames his hindbrain. It's faint, and perturbing, and utterly overpowered by the perfume emanating from the Padre.

"If we could make this brief, I would be interminably grateful. My presence is required elsewhere before the hour is through, it would seem your grievances hold far more merit than I initially thought."

fathermofsin

There's only the creak of the door opening interrupting an almost religious silence there in the oratory, like he just broke a seal meant to not be touched. He's there, down the aisle, a man, no a demon dressed in what he remembers being the former ghouls uniform, different from the new cardinal's guidelines of the demons attire.

His attentive gaze is locked on his frame, looking quitely at the way the different colours of the stained glass reflects on his silver mask, there's a sort of anticipation building inside him, in being here after a month of correspondences regarding their work.

The angel is suddenly aware of the other presence before him, of his deep voice shuttering the silence between them like the distance now zeroed by wide strides. He's tall.

« Indeed, but you can just call me Father, Mr Azoth.» His voice it's almost a whisper, but the gloved hand is grasping the ghoul's one in a firm shake. « We finally meet in person, never I thought it'll happen so soon. You surprised me.»

Smiling shyly at him he suddenly interrupts their handshake, his hands making their way behind his back, he's feeling their filth burning the palm of his hand just from a brief touch and it's making him nauseous for standing so close to the stench of sulphur.

« Oh yes...yes. I won't waste your time, I promise. We're all busy people so I'll try to make this quick. You read my last missive, right? »

#ghouls interaction #azoth

vileincarnations

Plotted starter for @fathermofsin from 𝕬𝖟𝖔𝖙𝖍:

Plucking another envelope from the sloping stack upon his desk, Azoth arches a wicked brow. The penmanship is as pristine as it is foreign to him, inked with all the precision of an Italian humanist scholar, without a smudge of ink blotting the parchment. Slicing open the envelope with the serrated edge of his claw, he plucks the tri-folded missive from its immaculate vessel, and sharp, silver eyes scan the page.

Summons. Solicitation of his presence, regarding recent conduct of the ghouls around the Ministry. Beneath, a laundry list of the malice and mischief the diabolical denizens of the abbey have been embroiling themselves in over the past month. With pinched lips and a jaded sigh, Azoth uncaps his fountain pen and begins to compose his reply. His reply to... A Father M., one of Copia's recent recruits, he's sure. Azoth had heard the pettegolezzo (not that an individual of his station would ever indulge such trivialities) about the reclusive minister, and their aversion to recreational activities of any kind. They had certainly caused quite a stir.

Slotting the irreverend father into his schedule, Azoth pens a swift and succinct reply to their office before handing the communique off to his secretary.

'Egregio Don M., Ci incontreremo domani alle diciassette nell'oratorio. Distinti saluti, Azoth Ufficio del Delegato per i Ghoul'

He would nip this issue in the bud before it ever reached the ears of The Clergy.

fathermofsin

When They talked to him about the mission he imagined the place he was going would be different in so many ways, an unholy ground full of sinners both human and demonic in nature, a place not made for an angel to walk in.

He knew the dangers of his mission, They made it clear that he needed to be discreet and not to be found out, whatever the cost. But the Ministry - oh - it was a place filled with filth and blasfemy.

It was a month after his arrival that he decided to take business into his own hands, from his supervisor position ,although fake, he wrote words with impeccable precision regarding the current state of the demonic spawns infesting the abbey ground. Directed to no less than the Head of the pack.

The ghoul answer was quick to arrive at his desk, but the father sharp words were greeted with a proposal to meet in person, something that Malachia was non happy to read. He heard how the siblings spoke of the older ghoul, how they're both afraid and intrigued by his stoic and intimidating presence. So it was normal from him to clutch in his gloved hands the fragil paper of a yellowed missive while standing behind the closed oratorio doors.

He was not afraid, he knows how to defend himself such is the nature of a Dominion, so why a trembling sigh left his lips when he finally decided to open the door and meet the demon?

#//don't worry it's perfect!#ghost oc #ghost rp #ghouls interaction

seraphim-eternal

For I have seen your face, which is like seeing the face of God, and you have accepted me.

Genesis 33:10

#malachia aesthetic

fathermofsin

“Good evening father! I have a few pieces of mail for you today, and I also wanted to inform you that the chores around the ministry have been updated so you’ll be cleaning up around the catacombs this week. This paper says all the details and if you have any issues or questions I’m here.”

Emilio said with a smile handing the mail over tl him happily. His hand tattoo contrasting on the white envelopes

-( @askemilioemeritus )

He was in the middle of a night walk around the ministry, his current reading in hand while he was strolling through the corridors, no ghoul in sight and finally a moment of rest for his mind when he heard the man voice behind his back and almost let out a scream for fear.

With an hand clutching his chest and the other hand on the wall searching for support he looked at Emilio with wide eyes and a nervous smile.

« P-Please Emilio don't do that again, you scared me... »

He tried to make some deep breaths in order to calm himself and his racing heart.

This God forsaken place will be the death of him.

@askemilioemeritus

askemilioemeritus

”oh shit- sorry! I’m so sorry- yea I won’t I swear.”

he said his words rushed as he smiled at him

“I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m trying to get all the mail sorted before lunch.. but- it’s not going too well on time.. anywho you have.. a few packages and one letter from..The.. Catholic Church- probably either Jim or Bartholmew.”

fathermofsin

« I-it's ok, I'm ok, don't worry too much. »

He let out a forced chuckle trying to show Emilio that he was fine, his right hand was fast in fixing the glasses back on the bridge of his pointy nose, this gesture pulling him back in a calm behaviour.

« I can give you a hand if you want, I imagine you're full of mail to deliver to the right owners. »

Reaching out an hand to take the packages and letter from him he reads in his head the sender on the back of the white sheet, so many types of communication methods and they seem to prefer the most untrustworthy.

« Oh yes, it must be from Father Jim. We met some days ago and I asked him a few things about America and his peculiar type of preaching. And well..I wold say I really appreciate the feeling of ink on paper, I was expecting an email or even a phone message so I too am surprised. »

Now there's a shy smirk on his face.

askemilioemeritus

”yea he’s an odd one.. knowing some of the ghouls they would’ve peeked and read the letter. I’m slightly worried if we need to invite him back here so he realizes-“

he smiled at his kindness shaking his head at the humble offer

“oh Nono today’s one of the less stressful days, I can handle it. But thank you very much! I appreciate it. If you need anything let me know. I’m here for ya.”

fathermofsin

« A rather peculiar man indeed. Oh for the love of our Lord below, I hope my mail doesn't happen to fell in their hands ever, you know better than me how much nosy the ghouls can be..»

His eyes lowers on the letter in his grasp, stroking the fine paper with his gloved thumb.

« But...I can count on you for it's safety, right Emilio? »

There's a smile on his lips when his gaze returns to his brother face, tired eyes marked by dark circles are looking straight at him with a glint harder to read.

« Are you sure? »

#ghost rp #ghost oc #clergy's circle #emilio

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