With hands that always seemed to be dusted with flour and an apron tied around his waist, William kneaded the lump of dough vigorously on the counter before him. It was impossible for him to have not heard the entry of another, as the bell above the door sounded each time it was opened and shut - he’d assumed the only other person in the room would have spoken to him by now, requesting a cake, or loaf of bread other than the wheat that was kept in stock. His eyes never once looked up to acknowledge them, though. The silence between them could have been deafening if it weren’t for the shallow breaths of the individuals, and the consistent interruption of the dough thumping against the large butcher’s block cutting board in front of him. He’d grown tired when he finally decided to speak, his head lifting to get a view of his unnecessary audience.
“Will you be standing there all day or is there something you need?”
cedar had walked into the bakery and forgotten what they’d wanted. maybe it was the extended smoke exposure from all the pot their parents smoked when cedar was a kid. or, maybe it was the head trauma they’d had throughout their life. dealer’s choice.
when they were asked if they needed something, they realized they’d been standing for a while. cedar blinked twice and looked up at the baker. oooh what a mysterious looking guy. cedar had seen him around, but they’d never made the interaction.
“UH. JUST SOME PASTRIES. MAYBE A CHEESE DANISH OR TWO? I’VE BEEN CRAVING THEM LATELY, AND IF I START CRAVING, WELL... I GET GRUMPY. CEDAR MARLOWE. I’M A WARDEN.” that usually impressed ‘em.
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: the school, exterior
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: late afternoon
𝐖𝐇𝐎: anyone !
cautiously dropping her cello case to the ground at her feet, the teacher hums to the tune of amazing grace as she locks up the front of the school building. she had stayed after classes to practice in the silence of the building before she would return home to her brothers, knowing full well they would detest to hear her play.
the scuffing of feet against the pavement captures her attention as she fumbles and drops her keys to the ground, a soft mutter of curses under herbreath falls as she carefully crouches to pick them up and look to her new companion.
“you’re a bit late if you wanted a music lesson, i’m afraid,” though there was a smile on her lips as she spoke.
alastair watched the children playing after school, walking past them and smiling amicably as he was wont to do. he stopped to watch her as she closed the building up. she must have stayed late again. the woman he knew better than even her lover.
bonnie looked radiant today. though, alastair would say she looked radiant any day, blessed with child and aglow with the light of the lord. and of alastair.
“WELL, I’M SURE YOU’D OPEN THOSE DOORS UP IF I WAS EARNEST ENOUGH,” he teased right back, coming up to her and placing a hand at her cheek as he leans down to pick up the keys she’d dropped. he locks the door for her, placing them back in her hand and covering them.
( sinqua walls, he/him ) heaven’s gates open to you, [ foster strickland ]. on earth, you are a [ thirty six ] year old [ cis man ]. in the great fellowship, you are immortal. together, you work with your family as [ a runner ] of [ the farm ]. you will be embraced, and your faults are made non existent. you are the embodiment of [ aching legs sprinting across dry dirt, heart thudding with the pounding of feet, soft smiles shared with loved ones, and daydreams that never seem to end ]. ( maric, 21+, cst, he/him, n/a )
foster’s lived a relatively normal life. he was born in nebraska city on a farm that his parents ran and operated. he literally grew up shucking corn, and he loved every second of it. the farm life was definitely for him. he liked the great outdoors; he liked working with his hands. he liked being with his family.
that all changed when they had to sell the farm. his paternal grandma, who lived in mississippi, came down with an illness, and foster and his family, having almost nothing left, decided to move down there with her. maureen strickland was grateful for the influx of people, and she all forced them to take her to church every sunday where foster and his family were finally introduced to alastair cross.
when maureen passed away, alastair showed them love and made her funeral bearable in their time of grief. foster and his family took to alastair with kindness, but when the holy house was built, foster lost a bit of faith in alastair. he’d listened to cult podcasts before, and it was a little suspicious. still, he didn’t want to leave his family behind, so he traveled to the holy house with them. now, he keeps his doubts under wraps. no sense in stirring the pot. alastair hasn’t done anything too strange.
( jennifer morrison, they/them ) heaven’s gates open to you, [ cedar marlowe ]. on earth, you are a [ thirty two ] year old [ gender nonbinary ]. in the great fellowship, you are immortal. together, you work with your family as [ a warden ] of [ the wardens ]. you will be embraced, and your faults are made non existent. you are the embodiment of [ calloused hands gripping a weapon, uncertainty in one’s self, blood dripping from innocent hands, and rushing rapids leading to a calm river ]. ( maric, 21+, cst, he/him, n/a )
they were not meant to be alive. cedar marlowe was born to a hippie dippie family in washington state. cedar lived in a commune in the middle of the woods. they were happy for most of their life, and they got into a lot of trouble early on in their life.
they didn’t realize their “commune” was actually a cult, and that cult was going to “ascend to heaven,” but they were raided before they could...um...ascend. cedar has always been around cults. there was a time when they were twenty that they didn’t have a cult they were in. they almost joined scientology once, but they didn’t have enough money.
ever since their commune got raided when they were a child, they searched for that same familial environment. despite the hippie upbringing, cedar was quite determined. fiery. ruthless when they needed to be. then again, being raised in a cult makes kids weird. or so they’ve heard.
they joined the great fellowship when they were 24, immediately taking to alastair and pledging everything they had to him almost immediately. they had nowhere to live and no one who loved them anymore. alastair took them into his home. they lived with alastair before the holy house was completed, and cedar shared every dirty secret they’ve ever had.
( linus roache, he/him ) heaven’s gates open to you, [ alastair cross ]. on earth, you are a [ forty eight ] year old [ cis man ]. in the great fellowship, you are immortal. together, you work with your family as [ the leader ] of [ the great fellowship ]. you will be embraced, and your faults are made non existent. you are the embodiment of [ weathered hands clutching an old bible, laughter in an empty room, the raging inferno of god’s light, and peace before the storm ]. ( maric, 21+, cst, he/him, n/a )
alastair cross, born john stone, heard the call of god when he was only a child. he was 5 years old, kneeling to pray, when he heard the voice of an angel calling him to a higher power. he would shepard a great flock one day, bringing lost souls to holy god. his mother and father didn’t pay much mind to that, excusing his visions for an excitement for god, something they actively fostered.
he spent most of his childhood years spreading the “good word,” gathering his classmates in his local, small-time ministry. it grew quite large before the school he attended forced him to shut it down. from there, it turned to an after school ministry. still, his parents encouraged this, believing his early pastoral behavior was a sign of a future in the ministry. they gave him a place to hold the ministry, offering him a place to worship early on.
when he turned 18, he knew he could do better than the ministry he built as a teenager; so, he changed his name and moved to another state. he lost any and all connection to his mother and father, abandoning them as only one could do in the early nineties. he moved to jackson, mississippi where he started his new ministry. from there, his church family only grew and grew. he married maura bishop only a few years in, when he was 22 and she was 20, and they had a son, lazarus cross, 9 months after they were married. in reality, alastair saw a kindred spirit in maura, a woman who was just as power hungry and desperate for adoration as he was.
alastair grew his church but never quite got it over the hump until he was 40. when he turned 40, something clicked, and the church started to grow like wildfire across treelines. by the time he was 45, they were running out of room in the third church building they had to move to. he loved the influx of followers, so alastair set out to create the holy house, a place where he and his flock could live and follow the bible’s teachings. or well, they could follow alastair’s teachings which he would pass off as god’s. he wouldn’t get that deep into the crazy shit until they were deep in it.
with the strides of the internet, his message reached more and more people until he had an entire town on his hands. give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. this was alastair’s motto. they would be the easiest to influence, anyway. he picked up his flock and moved them to woodville, mississippi, where he would be able to control them more. use them more.
in 2020, the holy house opened. it welcomed thousands of people, and in november 2021, the doors closed. no one was allowed in or out. the great fellowship could stand on its own now, and alastair would have no interference from any one else. it was its own self-sufficient city.
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