Adam Monroe (
changehistory) wrote2007-12-18 08:55 pm
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Entry tags:
Open 'verse RP [Open -- Separate threads fine]
He'd come home out of some weird need to find his roots, again. Or something. At the current moment he couldn't remember. Souvenir shops lined the streets he roamed too long ago. The house had burned over three centuries before and even the alleys were swept now. There had been nothing to bury, and no money for more than a mass grave had there been, so there were no markers, nothing to see, nothing to kneel at.
Wandering into the new St. Paul's, built after he left, after the fire that took them, he nonetheless felt something settle. He sat in a pew for hours, trying to remember what it had felt like when he came home, saw this, sat here the first time, a different man. Not Matthew. Not Takezo Kensei. Something else, someone else. A man without country, time, family.
For a time, he'd thought to find it again, but now the dream seemed farther away than it had even when trapped in that cell, and he was cold.
It was well after dusk when he left. He found a pub, a table in a corner, and with a wry smile that cursed all the years in between, he ordered a whiskey and asked the bartender to leave the bottle, working to bury himself in the one thing left that had any familiarity or link to the old.
Wandering into the new St. Paul's, built after he left, after the fire that took them, he nonetheless felt something settle. He sat in a pew for hours, trying to remember what it had felt like when he came home, saw this, sat here the first time, a different man. Not Matthew. Not Takezo Kensei. Something else, someone else. A man without country, time, family.
For a time, he'd thought to find it again, but now the dream seemed farther away than it had even when trapped in that cell, and he was cold.
It was well after dusk when he left. He found a pub, a table in a corner, and with a wry smile that cursed all the years in between, he ordered a whiskey and asked the bartender to leave the bottle, working to bury himself in the one thing left that had any familiarity or link to the old.
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"I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.
"And in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; he descended into hell; the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.
"I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy catholic Church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting. AMEN."
He fell silent for a moment, then shrugged, straightening. "The resurrection of the body, carp. I don't think they meant it the way mine works, not for humans, not just for..." It was part of it, he knew. When he realized he could not die, that he would have life everlasting, but not in heaven. Trapped on Earth, like the angels that fell, forced to live on and to see and to watch.
"How does it apply to me anymore? What do I hope for...I have life everlasting, without His promises, without His creeds. The Tree of Life, carp. 'And the Lord God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever...'" He looked at him, shook his head. "Man, living forever. The thing God wished to prevent, lest man truly become like Him. Gods on the Earth, walking and talking and...I cannot die, carp. I am what God feared man to become. So what does that make me?"
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