[The ChapelFB] It's a Dirty Job, But Someone Got to do it

[Jeremiah DraDerex]

Solo thread that will need mod help later or even now if you'd like to change the course I am taking so far. Currently I am in route to the chapel to ask for a job as a mortician.

1st of Spring 510AV Jeremiah was in the back of his house, busy as he prepared for an outing. Not just any outing but a job hunt. Specifically, he wanted to become the embalmer for the The Chapal of Black Rock. Having come to the island only eight days before Jerry and Draven both felt it was time to get a real job he can't spend all of his days just hanging around. Ironically Jerry had just finished a two day meditation and house warming ceremony. The holes in his skin fallowing the line of his spine give hints to the macabre ritual of self sacrifice, pain, and total devotion to Dira. The preparation for the outing consisted of picking out an outfit. Walking around in the buff, he searched for something suitable to wear out. He didn't have much to choose from but opted for the scrap cloth he had found behind the seamstresses work place. The red, linen like fabric wrapped around his waist, the opening positioned to one side allowing freedom of movement of his legs yet keep his modesty hidden from those who may find it offensive to see male genitalia. Once the tanned man had securly fastened the bit of cloth with several needles, he exclaimed, "Perfect!" Jerry walked out into the short hallway, feet shifting and falling over loose sharp rock that was his floor. The candles kept ever a lit flicker as he passes them. Draven fallowed close behind him, his presence ever felt by the brother bound by a promise even in the after life. Jerry Chooses to live as a squalor as part of his faith. Self sacrifice wasn't just skin deep, this philosophy of giving up modern commodities was something he and Draven had decided on at an early age to make part of their faith. Because of this Jerry and Draven both had lived simple lives. Jerry easily entertained himself with nothing more then a sewing kit, sharp knives, and a dead carcass of an animal. Jerry a taxidermist had found that he had a knack at it, often times practicing on the kills Draven brought home from hunting. However today Jerry wanted to take his talent a bit further. He wanted to become an embalmer, a hard profession to practice on their own. Bodies, human bodies didn't just show up at their doorstep. Well at least not at the moment. Jerry had read everything he could on the subject, learning about the different ways to drain the body of its fluid by making to incisions in the neck and feeding a mixture of preservatives and other chemicals through one slit and letting it fill the blood vessels and veins within the body. The other slit obviously was left untouched allowing all the goodies to leave the body as it gets replaced with them preserving fluid. Jerry knew how to do the procedure but could never do it due to lack of supplies and bodies. Continuing to walk outside over the Island of Black Rock, he moves to a Gondolier who was waiting as if anticipating Jerry and Draven's arrival. As they both boarded the boat, Draven kindly declined the invitation to the other world offered by the gondolier of lost souls, he still had much to do right here in the mortal realm before being reincarnated. "To the Chapel dear gondolier, for I need to inquire about a job." Jerry told the gondolier who had already expertly moved his oar setting the long black boat on it's way cutting through the mirrored surface of the black canals.

[Cayenne]

The sky was bleak. There was barely any sun penetrating the clouds overhead, and fog rolled off of the water of the Suvan Sea, surrounding and cloaking Black Rock. Its inhabitants, living and dead, were well-used to such weather, and made their way through it. Jeremiah and Draven, however, had only arrived a few days prior... and may not have been quite so used to it.

The Gondolier let them board, and silently lowered their long oar into the water. The waters of Black Rock were far too deep to use a pole to navigate, but the Gondoliers knew what they were about. In the distance, Jerry heard the great clock on Dira's tower let out its chimes. The hour was on the cusp of changing... and that meant that the canals would readjust. Suddenly, all around them, the stone walls of the canals began to move, eerily silent but for the sloshing of the water as it readjusted. There was no scraping as the buildings moved, nor the stones. Even the docks seemed to glide along the water to reattach themselves to the stones. Throughout all of this, the Gondolier calmly steered the slender vessel through the shifting waters.

At last, when they were what seemed to be the southwestern-most dock, the Gondolier guided the gondola to a stop, and bowed slightly, extending one gloved hand towards the stone stairs that would lead them up, before turning and pointing in the distance. The Chapel, apparently, was that way. Once he climbed the steps, he could see numerous ghosts still moving through the fog, a small group of which were going in the direction that the Gondolier had pointed him in. Perhaps they were going that way...

Either way, it wasn't hard for Jeremiah and his twin to find a large, marble building separating the rest of the island from a sea of black grass, a simple iron rail surrounding the cemetery. This would be the Chapel, wouldn't it? The heavy-looking doors opened easily and and soundlessly, parting at a slight touch, and revealing the interior, a great, empty hall where lanterns burned overhead. Straight ahead revealed another set of doors, and on the left was a staircase leading downwards. Going through the door revealed a wide room filled with rows of polished, well-worn pews for people to sit and kneel, and trios of candles lined the walls to give the room light, along with a large window at the other end. At the far end, to the side, an elderly-looking ghost was seated at an ancient-looking pipe organ beside a young girl, who was slowly playing as the ghost showed her what to press. The music was soft, quiet, and hauntingly beautiful as the child played, a bit of melancholia in each note.

A young woman dressed in black sat in one of the front pews talking to a group of ghostly sailors. She had lace-like markings on her face, contrasting sharply with her pale skin, and after a little while, the ghosts scattered, slipping out and away. The woman stood, and turned, noticing Jeremiah's arrival. She smiled at him, and held her arms outstretched slightly in a welcoming gesture. "Welcome. How may I help you? I am Basia, Head Priestess of Dira on Black Rock."

[Jeremiah DraDerex]

Jeremiah and Draven took in the scenery, pieces of the island slowly manifesting in the distances, through the wispy white specter of haze. The duo where acting like children who had gone to a toymaker for the first time. Their heads shifting and whipping back and forth making sure they see everything. They however didn’t notice the silent change of the island’s surface until it was to late. Jerry noticed first a loud chime from the clock tower then he noted that the boat was running parallel with the shore yet it looked like the black stone was approaching them. The Gondalier expertly maneuvered through the canals which where changing, silently only causing ripples along the mirror surface of the water. The gondolier seemed to have some sort of precognition ability, or many years of experience, in either case it was a memorable experience for the pair.

It was only a few moments after, or at least seemed like a few minutes, the pair approached a dock. They carefully walked out of the boat. Jerry’s steps made the boat tip slightly and the water to slosh, this however was a stark contrast to Draven who gently levitated off the boat and onto the dock. Jerry didn’t like that. When Draven did something that deviated from what a human could do, it twanged a string in his heart, even though Draven was here he wasn’t really there.

The duo however continued to take in the sights of the island. The gondolier having pointed them in the right direction was left alone, slowly fading into the haze fading like ink on paper when water blotches and thins it out. Looking around they past by a rather peculiar sight, black grass. Jerry had never seen such a thing before just like he had never seen a marble building before.

The chapel was bigger then expected, large double doors that looked to be very heavy and probably where. Though the pair wouldn’t have guessed that the slightest of touches parting the door. The easy of entrance only made the pair feel more welcomed. The cold light of the cavity made the room look solemn to Jerry, he loved it. The soft sounds of music gracing the ears of the pair. Draven wandered away from Jerry to watch the elder and girl play the mammoth instrument.

Jerry however stopped near the front seeing a solid entity talking with some sailors. Jerry thought to himself, how lucky it would seem the crew have been found and are no longer lost at sea. He nodded at some of the sailors who had began leaving, which left Jerry alone to ask the pale woman where to go to find the proprietor of the fine establishment.

He did not have to instigate conversation, the women turning toward him and introducing herself to him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Basia, my name is Jeremiah. I have just arrived on this wonderful island with my brother Draven,” He gestures near the ghostly music group. “I am looking for a job here to possibly learn more about the finer points of worship and possibly even gain experience in my hobbies.” Jerry seemed a little nervous speaking to someone of such high status, a squalor himself didn’t feel worthy to speak to her.

[Cayenne]

Basia nodded at Jeremiah's words. Black Rock called to the special few who came there for many different reasons. Who knew what resolve brought them here? They were here now. "Welcome to Black Rock, both of you," the young woman smiled. She wasn't at all disturbed or disgusted or concerned by the way the young man cloaked himself. Who did it harm? Besides, it wasn't like you could take your fine garments with you when you died. She smiled at Draven, extending her hands to clasp his in welcome. She showed no signs or even symptoms of that cold, burning shock that usually came when one interacted with a ghost. The girl seated on the organ's bench had turned to look at them when Basia had greeted them, only to return to the instrument, and work her way through her pieces again, not at all shocked by either of the brothers.

"Won't you sit?" she invited them, taking a seat in the front pew, sitting sideways as to face Jeremiah and Draven. "I've always been interested in the worship of Dira... and those that do. As for the finer points... well, one must understand that Dira, while the Goddess of Death, upholds balance. Life without death would be horrible. Everyone and everything would suffer. But some take it too far, really, and do not always understand that Dira does not demand or require death sacrifices from her followers. Death comes to all eventually," Basia's fingers stroked the old, dark wood. "When Dira decides it is someone's time... that is that. We finish in this life. How others worship Dira... that is up to them."

"A job... Hm. What sort of hobbies do you have, then?" She watched him with interest. One didn't presume - Dira had seen many fanatics come and go, some of them sending themselves into the abyss to show their devotion to Her. For some, it worked. But others... well, Basia would have to say she wouldn't be at all surprised to find out that this young man's 'hobbies' included teaching rabbits to tap-dance to hymnal music.

Stranger things had happened.

[Jeremiah DraDerex]

Jerry smiled at the excepting greeting. “Thank you, Basia.” He looked around the open hall a bit more before taking a seat on the cool stone pew. The slightly dingy man looked over to his brother who had taken a seat next to him. His faded green eyes focus on the priestess before the pair. He can feel a slight difference between his brother and Basia, dj no doubt.

Jerry nodded as Basia began to spiel to him about the other worshippers of Dira. He nods a bit in understanding as the priestess tells them about Dira and clarifies what they have only read from books before. Soon the question of hobbies came up and Jerry knew at that time it was his turn to speak.

“Well I can assure you I do not plan on dying by my own hand anytime soon priestess. Only by the willing hands of Dira, Draven, “ gestures over to hi brother, “and I have our own way of celebrating death and Dira. That leads me into some of my hobbies priestess. I have practiced a little spiritism only what I have been able to read. It would be wonderful if I was able to learn more.”

Jerry shifts in his seat, getting further comfortable. Draven on the other hand had his eyes focused on the flicker of a candle flame.

“I have done much research on the preserving the human body. I of course do not mean hands on research. I may not look like it, but I quite enjoy reading. I have taken a particular interest in taxidermy and embalming techniques.” He looks thoughtful for a moment, “Come to think of it, I even heard of people who choose to inhabit an embalmed body, noops or nutes. I can’t remember the name of them though.” Jerry studies the priestess for any signs that may tell what she is thinking.

[Cayenne]

"Ahh, a Spiritist," Basia nodded slightly. "There are those that practice that here on Black Rock... never, of course, presuming to dust a Ghost." Her voice was a little hard there at the very mention of it. It was a horrible practice, dusting, and one outlawed on Black Rock. Spiritists who practiced it put themselves at risk, because Harbingers and Omens alike neither appreciated nor approved of it. Few would deny its usefulness for more sinister purposes, but considering Black Rock's attitude towards ghosts, one didn't need to wonder why dusting was a hated practice.

The priestess' gaze went back and forth between Jerry to Draven, assuring the ghost of his place in the conversation without a word passing between them. "They are called the Nuit," Basia supplied, her voice calm, matter of fact, despite the slight grimace that had her exposing her teeth. "They come here, sometimes. The Omens send them to Lhex." She linked her fingers loosely, her elbow resting on the back of the pew as she looked at her guests. "Since you are new here, allow me to explain. The jackal-masked figures that carry the shepherd's crooks and wear black cloaks are called the Omens. They uphold what few laws we have here in Black Rock. They are simple. When our death comes, it comes. There is no fighting. There is peace. The living and dead live together in search of a greater understanding. Simple, yes?" She frowned slightly. "For some, not so much. But the Omens act for Dira, looking after the Island."

"As I'm sure you know, some cremate their dead... they burn them. Prevents decay and disease and other such things... like those who would rob the graves for parts for Animation or Malediction. On Black Rock, we have no such problems, so embalming and preparing the corpse are actually quite important." She steepled her fingers. "I could use an assistant. I actually have a body lying in state below, if you'd like to come with me and show me your skills. Consider it a bit of an audition." Basia smiled, standing up.

[Jeremiah DraDerex]

Jeremiah listened as Basia explained some of the strange things that he had observed on the island. Both he and his brother thought that the beings who wore the mask of the jackal were part of some cult. It wasn't totally out of the question considering the eclectic mix of beings in one spot. With such a vast mix of beliefs, Jeremiah was surprised at how peaceful the area had been.


"Nuits, is what you call the abominations?" Jeremiah tried to match the same level of calmness in his tone as Basia had given him, but still a hint of bitterness could be picked out.

He knew of the nuits and the practice of "body hopping" to evade death. It wasn't natural and in some way deceitful.

"Omens? What a fitting name, tried asking one of them myself they didn't say well anything really. Are they even alive and how'd they come about to be? Are there others outside of Black Rock? " He looked like a child that had just met their idle.

He wanted to absorb as much information as he could on the subject, intrigued by the strange and obtuse ways compared to conventional life on the continent.
But soon a look of nervousness slithered up his body as Basia told him that he could "Try out" right now for a position as a assistant mortician. He may have had researched the subject, but still hadn't had the opportunity to really try.

"An audition? You mean now?" He chuckled nervously relaxing back against the wooden pew, "I mean all I know about embalming is from books." He paused for a long moment and really thought about the decision to actually go through with this.

After a few moments of silence he glanced up at Basia, "If I mess something up do you have the power to fix my mistake if it isn't too horrible? It would tear me up inside to present a body with sloppy incisions that were done by my hands."