FATHER @hallowcd - Tumblr Blog

seer-dayo‌

Many aboard The Salty Bastard claimed that Dayo was unnaturally good at cards. They said that a deity must have blessed him from birth, or otherwise one of the various lucky charms he carried actually worked. Dayo wasn’t sure about the charms, but he had little reason to believe a deity would bless him over cards.A silly thing to bless someone with. No,Dayo put his skill in cards down to being good at reading people, his quick fingers and a good constitution towards alcohol. A perfect storm for reading opponents, out-cheating cheaters and drinking people under the table. Even if he had strange dreams or if certain people gave him weird vibes, that was hardly enough to help him win a quick game of Piquet. Additionally most of The Salty Bastard were sore losers, who couldn’t accept that they weren’t as good at cards as they thought they were.

Tonight Dayo found himself with the night off, and on their own accord his feet wandered in the direction of The Statue Inn. Sometimes it gave him goosebumps, but the gambling was good there, as was the food and drink. He didn’t like to bet too high, even though he had enough money saved up to live a little.The employees of the inn had beedy eyes, and he wasn’t sure how long The Salty Bastard was going to be docked here in neutral (unprofitable) ground. The going game tonight seemed to be poker, an easy to follow game with quick rules that had grown popular on Atlantis. Three was a good number to have around a table, and Dayo joined in on a game just as someone left the table. For a few hours he played with middling luck, making his money back and a little to spare. And then, tragically, both of his partners left after short succession. The other tables playing now were crowded, idiots with a few too many in them gambling too richly for his tastes. Dayo sucked on his teeth and looked around the room.

He locked eyes with a curious observer, and shot them a most winning grin. “You want to play? I’ll buy us a round.”

The devout were few and far between on Atlantis and certainly in The Statue Inn, holiness was scant. Elijah felt something of a sore thumb in the inn but that was to be expected, men surrounded him at all sides drinking in merriment whilst he remained sober as a rock. Steady on his feet as he played cards in the far corner, out of sight and hopefully unnoticed. Leniency, or perhaps blissful ignorance, had been gifted to him with being shipped to Atlantis. Playing cards was a small sin to indulge but Elijah would’ve been too embarrassed to be caught in such an establishment. His name smeared and any hope of staying true to the path that God had laid for him would be cracked. Far out of sight of his bishop, Elijah was safe.

It wasn’t about the thrill of it, or even to make an extra few pieces of coin for his pocket. The church kept him well-fed and looked after. Elijah liked the intimacy of it. Men, women, spilling their secrets over a game of cards and convening under the stars to worship their gods, even if they were wrong. He beat a drunk waste of a man at whist—hardly a challenge. Allegedly, the young man had convinced himself to come to church on sunday. Elijah would believe it when he saw it. For now, they parted ways as the gentlemen swayed towards the bar with vehemence and a thirst for liquor. Some tables over a game of poker had dried up, the one round of cards that even Elijah could not bring himself to play, he would not gamble a speck of sand much less solid coin. The lone man eager to continue on seemed to be interested in Elijah as a partner and who was he to refuse such a temptation.

“Whist or piquet I fear I don’t gamble so poker possesses little charm to me.” He took the seat opposite the young man, an unfamiliar face on an island that was already bursting at the seams. If it was the treaty that had washed him up on these shores then his humanity was at question, Elijah put the thought aside with a purse of his lips. “I shall buy us some bread and soup if that suits you? First, I find it difficult to face an unfamiliar opponent. I’m Father Elijah Smith, though you can just call me Elijah.” He was off duty and was appropriately dressed down the occasion, he felt a little naked without the sanctity of his habit, none of which deterred him.

#dayo ( 001 )#? elijah ?#so Naughty #playing cards you... rebel

daily-bible-quotes

Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.

Proverbs 16:24 (via daily-bible-quotes)

#( genesis )

cfarcadia‌

when it came to Christianity Isabella was conflicted. raised to be a devout catholic, she found that her heart and her belief laid elsewhere - the very ting that God condemns to Hell, witchcraft. the princess didn’t often seek out guidance from holy men since she was painfully aware that most of them only used their calling when it suited them - and it always suited them when they had to gather riches and treasures.she saw the duplicity of the faith, saw religion for what it was and so she turned to paganism. but no one knew about it, not her brothers, not her mother and certainly not her father, who would have banished her if he knew.

Arcadia’s princess entered a small church, a chapel really, and quickly made the sign of the cross if only out of habit. she wondered if the Virgin would give her counsel, the feminine energy always providing her with proper answers. she doubted that the Woman would be as judgemental as God but she never voiced her opinions; only when she was praying to the Gods did she do that, in the sanctuary of the small pagan altar she crafted in the passageway that connected her chambers to the ruins of a prayer’s chapel in the forgotten tunnels beneath her very feet.

a priest notice her and with a smile she obeyed, approaching him. “ good day, Holy Father. I hope I did not disturb you in prayer? “

Elijah could not recall if he’d met her acquaintance before, she wasn’t familiar personally but he had a feeling he’d seen her before, somewhere, somehow. The treaty had drawn nobles from half a dozen countries and Elijah could only assume that she was one of them. “No disturbances were made.” He smiled, it was not unlike him to be pragmatic. It was a superstition that priests’ could not fathom themselves to be practical men, it was easy to see how that could be believed when bishops drowned themselves in the merry delight of gold and wine. Elijah devoured neither and lived primitively on Atlantis, a great sigh of relief on his behalf, but he was certain that no bishop, noble or royal would ever dare to strip themselves of luxury.

“I live to serve Atlantis. Although I’m afraid you have missed this mornings mass if that was what brought you here.” He hooked his cane under his arm now that he was steady on his feet. It felt woefully wrong to be squared off with her. As if it was a sin to look her in the eye. Elijah remained undeterred and cleared his throat. “Should you need it I am here to assist you.” Confession was always open, Elijah had made that exception for Atlantis because it seemed sin was pouring from every crevice. Nevertheless the large majority of the populous could not care for contrition and fewer still yearned to talk to him so frankly.

“Pardon my ignorance, but I cannot recall that we have met.” It would be considered impolite to offer a hand if she was far above his station, and Elijah had the growing feeling that she was. “I’m Father Elijah, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

#isabella ( 001 )

aryn-neuri‌

It seemed that the Catholics just didn’t know when to quit. First the gradual growth he saw stalking the edges of the small towns that littered Albion had been of little consequence to him, but then the hunts came. So called Righteous men burning others at the stake for a few missing sheep.

It was ridiculous. If a Werewolf had attacked the town there would be no one left to record it, everyone knew that. The church had drum up a frenzy, causing most of the packs to go into hiding, including his own.

“Anyone? I would be careful throwing words like that around, father, is it?” He asked, his boots heavy against “Atlantis is a long way from your home.”

Elijah slowed, his stick drawing to his side as he regarded the man that stood before him with studious intent. He had seen him before, definitely. Once, twice, perhaps another time but he couldn’t be sure. An apparition that had remained unchanged since the first time Elijah had seen him in passing. Albeit he’d been young then, too young to notice or truly care and so Elijah had always been quick to dismiss his errant thoughts. It was harder still to ignore them when here again he stood, unchanged. “You may call me Father Elijah, if you wish.” He answered, slowly regaining momentum to stand a pew away form him.

“As it is yours. I cannot imagine that you’ve been brought here for the same reason as I.” Elijah had lived on the island for years and only since the flurry of outsiders, all for the treaty, had he encountered familiar old faces. Except his was neither. “The people of Albion grew tired of hearing me preach, so they sent me here to deliver mass to Atlantis.” If only he’d stayed home, for now he could see what a futile mission it had been.

“What has brought you so far from home?”

#aryn ( 001 )

josephineabbey‌

The church was the last place she’d ever wanted to be, but the day was creeping to a certain level of solitude and boredom that was never a good mix for the scholar. While she would normally bury herself beneath stacks of books, parchment and ink, she wasn’t feeling like going to the library for the second time today, counting sheep, since she’s already done most of her work. The inn, as a second option, was a good place to go, but she’s seen Annabelle and Benjamin not a few days prior, and she had to give them a chance to actually miss her for once. So, the church. That was the best option, especially since there lived a priest she just couldn’t help but to annoy to death. If annoying a parishioner earned her a one way ticket to Hell, then at least she’ll get there laughing.

Entering the holy ground, Josephine wondered how the ceiling hadn’t already collapsed around her. She lived her life sinfully, the worst of those sins being a woman and the second, being a woman with a passion for knowledge. She also drank and blasphemed more that it was tolerable for a woman her age, or a woman in general. She noticed her poor, unsuspecting target, and when Elijah noticed her, she traipsed towards him with a polite, but already amused, grin.

“Father! I would say forgive me for I have sinned, but since I don’t intend on quitting sinning, I figure I shouldn’t waste your time with false promises.” She chanted as she reached him, a friendly grin in place. “How you’ve been? Is Satan still out to get you?”

Elijah hid his disappointment well. If there was ever a woman that could be so relentless in her determination to make his life that bit harder it was Josephine. Somehow, he wouldn’t change a thing and perhaps that was an earnest speak on his character. Maybe working on Atlantis was lonelier then he thought it’d be. Regardless of his motives, Elijah massaged his temples slowly, not sure what he might or ought to say to her. “Josephine…” He feared if she ever attempted to come for confession he might roast in that tiny box. Her sins would drown them both in the lord’s ire and that would be the end of his mission. Elijah, in the end, shrugged. “You are honest. I must give you that.” He only wished it might be put to better uses.

“Satan is not out to get me.” If he were then the devil had certainly made its home in Atlantis. The island was a sanctuary for debauchery and the most inhumane, unspeakable, acts. The sooner the treaty was signed the quicker life would return to the norm. He might finally be free from his jinn. “I am well, and pray tell me are you fine Josephine?” He imagined she would be, and would come with tales of her latest exploits from reading, or worse, drinking. It was not a habit that suited anyone. Man or woman, it was an ugly affair. “I can’t imagine you’re here for mass,” and besides she’d missed it by at least an hour. Elijah hummed and leant his walking stick against the pews, feeling strong enough to stand around without it. “Something you need?”

He had long since given up hope that Josephine would be a convert, she liked to bicker too much and read a great deal more. Nevertheless, she still visited him. Quite regularly so. People crossing the threshold into church felt like an achievement in itself. “Because I was going to take a walk around the markets this afternoon, unless you are preoccupied with your scheduled sinning? You might like to come with me.”

#josephine ( 001 )

healinghandmaiden‌

Having discovered the jinn was on Atlantis, Eir had decided to seek them out. She knew the trouble they could bring, either by twisting wishes or by the cruelty of their master. Finding her way to the lane filled with temples had been easy enough - Eir went regularly to make an offering to her two favourite goddesses. Frigg was a close friend of Eir’s, as she’d once been the Queen’s handmaiden, and, and Freyja was worshipped by all Valkyries.

But entering the church made her hesitate, standing in the doorway.

While she was not here as a Valkyrie, she was not here to worship anyone, it still felt wrong. She’d been a goddess once, one that would have been worshipped in a different temple. Although that time was long gone, and none worshipped her now (except the shieldmaidens who praised all Valkyries), there was still something holding her back.

Noticing a man - no, a priest - walking towards her, she offered him a smile. The master, she could tell that much, and she changed her plans. She’d get to know him better, and seek out the jinn later. Forcing herself to take one more step so she was inside, she looked around the church. “Are all churches like this?” She asked frankly, having never set foot inside one before.

It was quiet, as it always was, and so Elijah had time to dedicate himself to maintaining the scripture. He organised the meagre library that was kept in the back of the church, nothing quite like the grand sweeping libraries of knowledge back home, and dusted the fixtures. Work for an assistant, or for a young boy from the village to occupy himself with, but Elijah had neither. The church was in dire need of a lick of paint but he hadn’t found the strength to stand precariously on a stool with a brush to get into all the nooks and crannies. Chores for another time, he was better suited to relighting the candles and keeping everything orderly for the next mass. Although he wasn’t sure if there was any point in staying late incase someone came by. It was laughable having two masses on a friday when he could scarcely round up enough on a sunday.

Elijah glanced over his shoulder at the scuffle of feet in the doorway, her face was not familiar although he could’ve sworn he’d seen her before perhaps in the town square, but he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t need his cane today but Elijah was not particularly fast as he crossed the church towards her. “No,” he smiled. Little amused that this tiny church could possibly represent them all on a whole. At home, their church even for a small town had far exceeded this one in its grandeur. Much less the cathedrals that could be found in the capital. They were works of art in their own right. “This is but a humble church that serves our divine Lord.” He gestured for her to take a seat in one of the pews.

“Are you interested in hearing the word of God?”

#eir ( 001 )

peaceorwar-rp-blog

The Catholic Church has found Priest Elijah Smith of Albion. He is aged 35 and is human.

A life dedicated to the church, he has given up all chances of love and family to save others souls, believing his own happiness is of no consequence compared to the duty he has been called to. Even being assigned to the place that made him afraid could not shake his spirit, instead taking it as an opportunity to reach those who needed him most.

His opinion on the treaty is neutral to an extent, but he will finish the mission he was set upon, to raise a Catholic community on Atlantis.

Connections:

Amir/Amira: he had never been particularly fond of magic, wanting nothing to do with it. It went against God, after all. Shortly after being assigned to Atlantis, he found himself the master of the Jinn. He’s very disturbed by this and has tried to keep it secret.

Josephine Abbey: although he has been in Atlantis for some time now, he still believes religion to be more important than understanding the strange world they live in. Josephine Abbey tries to challenge him at every opportunity on his beliefs, and it’s very exasperating.

FC: Michiel Huisman

#( bio tag TBD )#*wheeze #eli is dedicated to his church of 1 #lbr i'm sure more visit i just like ripping into him tbh #have more hcs #details i want to post about #so i'll figure out a format for it #💕

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…” Elijah leant back into the confessional. It was still fairly cool without the invasion of midday heat, in the church. But inside of confession it burned with the sins of Atlantis. This morning it was ferocious, he adjusted the collar of his cassock desperate to let a little air in or else he might faint without anyone ever knowing. The elderly lady, who had come to his sermons regularly since his arrival on the island, was babbling away. She had stolen her neighbours cat, apparently, and this had led them to retaliate by stamping out her dandelions, it had escalated from there. He exhaled, running his fingers over the bench edge to ground him from her wild tales, there was no mention of wolves this week.

“Betty. Your act of contrition.” He heard a sigh escape through the slats and off she went into the same spiel of a prayer. Elijah purged her sins with absolution but he wasn’t so sure Betty would make it to heaven. God was forgiving, but Betty was a thorn in his side. She liked to bring wild stories to him, ones that he knew to be true but preferred to play ignorant of. Gods that were not his own, wolves that were men and women that swam without aid for hours underwater. He knew that Atlantis was not humble ground but it didn’t mean he had to like it. He waited for Betty to bustle out of the confessional, till he could hear the door to the box click shut to suggest she’d gone and knowing no-one else was coming, he left. Incense burned at the altar along with half a dozen candles, even if light streamed in through the open door, he liked the company of the flame. It delivered a certain warmth.

To Elijah’s surprise, he was not alone. The priest reached for his cane that had been precariously balancing against the confessional box and gestured for them to come forwards. “Please, do not be shy. Anyone is welcome in the house of God.”