fandomtownies | Our Lady of Fandom, Thursday

Entry tags:

Our Lady of Fandom, Thursday

Castiel was in a bit of an odd mood today -- for him, anyway -- and was definitely looking distracted as he took to the pulpit, a book that was most decidedly not the Bible tucked under one arm.

It didn't come untucked at any point during his sermon, but throughout the service, whenever the choir was singing or someone was doing a reading or any time Castiel himself wasn't the focus of the congregation, he pulled it out and read a few pages.

Which probably didn't bode well for the comprehensibility of today's sermon. He was very clearly making this one up as he went, after all.

"Doubt," he said. And let the word hang in the air for a long moment as though he wanted to study it before he finally continued. "Is not a sin. Even the Lord's son, the very person sent to Earth to forgive your sins, had his moments of doubt."

It was possibly the shortest sermon ever. He continued on only for a few more sentences regarding how free will meant that the Lord preferred people to think for themselves and that doubt -- and returning conviction, of course -- could only really be evidence of that thought process. Which wasn't to say you had to doubt, of course, just that it was natural. . . .

If there was a wistfulness to his speech, a certain sense of "so aren't you lucky, you bastards?", then one could hardly hold it against him. After all, as Castiel pointed out, thankfully only once or twice, angels didn't have free will, so they had no excuse for doubting, and really, people had no idea just how good they had it, and they still spent all their time going about thinking with their reproductive organs first and then writing about it. What the hell?

Someone in the choir cleared their throat and Castiel reeled back in from his sidetracking. Anyway, his point was, people could totally doubt and not get banished to some alternate universe and totally cut off from everything they knew and cared about. And, hey, they were allowed to care about things, too. Lucky bastards.

Then he stepped down, grabbed a seat behind the altar, and opened his book again, leaving one of the altar boys to attempt to finish the service.

Oh yeah, the angel was definitely in a mood. And yeah, the fact that it was just this sort of mood that lead to Lucifer's fall? So not helping.

[ooc: OCD ~~a-comin.~~ is up ~~and I totally didn't forget to mention that for, like, an hour, shut up.~~]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It occurs to me that this thread operates a bit like the "listen to the lecture" threads in class posts.

Well, this was one way of... well, 'setting Arthur's mind at ease' was not the phrase.

Bloody Castiel had a habit of making him think (or stare in confusion) rather than fight the urge to drowse off as he did back home.

Arthur leaned over the front of the next pew, thoughtful.

Well. This was...uncomfortable. Chuck slid down in his pew as the sermon went on and by the end of it he was feeling really bad for Castiel.

Not that he'd ever say that out loud.

Didi was not people. She didn't get to doubt; she knew what she knew. Or so she kept reminding herself, increasingly firmly, as the dull business of being mortal planted questions in her mind. Still, the sermon struck her as a useful one, and reminded her why she didn't really want to flip ahead in Destiny's books even if she could.

She also agreed that people (and other creatures, like the odd anthropomorphic personification she happened to be related to) thought with their reproductive organs far too much.

Thisisnotawalkofshamethisisnotawalkofshamethisisnotawalkofshame...

That was not Francine slinking into church two minutes into the sermon with an overnight bag over her arm, and attempting to slide so far down into the pew she chose that she could use the kneeler for a pillow and check out everybody's shoes while she was at it.

Except for how it was.

Oh. Doubt. Yes. That was a helpful one.

Edited 2009-09-10 17:44 (UTC)

... Well, for Francine, that was certainly an auspicious entrance.

He cast her a mildly confused look across from where he was seated.

Oh. Oh good. That was good. Yes. After all, actual eye contact could increase her desire for the floor to open up and swallow her wh--- you know, bad, bad mental image.

Mildly Confused, meet Hideously Awkward. I believe your parents may know each other.

Saying Are you all right? wouldn't work well in the middle of a - decidedly short - sermon in a - decidedly acoustic - church, so these were Arthur's eyebrows, going up while trying to imply that they were not at all bothered, really, they were just going up and asking a question because they liked that kind of thing from time to time, between killing bears and having raw meat for dinner.

Arthur's eyebrows led a busy and somewhat disturbing life.

Francine's on the other hand, just sort of crinkled into their very very best attempt to convey you so don't wanna know, I mean really, reallly, you don't wanna know.

It may have come off as Never have the continental breakfast at the hotel on a day when Gunther's pissed at your boyfriend for not tipping the room service staff, though. Or just FML, Arthur. FML.

See, and this was why only Arthur was allowed to handle the hotels around here. He knew how these things worked: you shouted at people, you ordered them about, and then you gave them a lot of extra money and they went and did amazing things to your room while you were away.

Arthur's upbringing had a warped way of making sense in the modern age.

Since the FML explanation was most obvious and readily communicated to Arthur's mind, he frowned. What now? Was she in any trouble?

Aaaand there we reached the limits of Francine's communicating-across-an-acoustic-church abilities, if she didn't want to start doing semaphore (which she didn't know and suspected Arthur didn't either), or actually get up and go sit by him and ahahahaha no.

Oh, wait. She did have that weird plastic thing that people used for communicating across distances sometimes.

It was in her bag. Somewhere under the garter belt oh God.

--I'm fine. You don't want to know, trust me.--

Re: React to the service

bitchprince - 2009-09-11 04:46 (UTC) - Expand

Oh Chuck knew a walk of shame when he saw one. Many women left his room looking like that.

So he would be over here, leering like a perv.

And Arthur would be over here, glaring at him until he realised the inherent threat of whippings. And not the good kind.

Chuck gave Arthur a distinct What? look after noticing the glare. Can't a guy leer in church without being interrupted? Jeez.

Not when it was Francine, and especially not in church.

Arthur lifted his chin. Unless he wanted to take this outside.

Chuck just rolled his eyes. Oh yeah, like he was threatened by chin lifting and glares.

Re: React to the service

bitchprince - 2009-09-10 19:20 (UTC) - Expand

Re: React to the service

thatsamilkshake - 2009-09-10 19:46 (UTC) - Expand

Re: React to the service

rocksthescarf.livejournal.com - 2009-09-10 20:12 (UTC) - Expand

Re: React to the service

thatsamilkshake - 2009-09-10 23:12 (UTC) - Expand

Irulan's curiosity about this angel led her to seat on one of the pews. It was not a religion she practiced and indeed, after being with House Atreides (and the Bene Gesserit before that) had made Irulan extremely cynical about religion.

She listened to the sermon. It seemed the angel still had a few issues.

He'll totally talk back. And probably try to keep from getting his Mood all over you.

Just don't point out that he's having an existential crisis. Angels aren't supposed to have those either. . . .

Irulan approached the angel. His mood was very palpable and she approached him slowly, "Hello."

Castiel set his book aside. "Hello again." He was rather surprised to see her there.

"I am not part of this religion," she began, "but I was curious about this church. I used to belong to a sisterhood that used religion to manipulate civilizations."

"This one has been used as such. But it is not its intention."

Irulan nodded. "Yes, I know some of its history." She paused before adding, "You still seemed troubled."

"I . . . suspect I will remain so. My father works in mysterious ways, but I admit, I am not above wanting more exposition."

React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Re: React to the service

Talk to Castiel

Re: Talk to Castiel

Re: Talk to Castiel

Re: Talk to Castiel

Re: Talk to Castiel

Re: Talk to Castiel

Re: Talk to Castiel

OOC