Post by barney on Jan 28, 2023 4:25:07 GMT
“Will we burst out in flames if we step inside, Chester?”
“You might. Depends on how he’s feeling as of late.”
Luna Baby leans in to get a closer look at the Notre Dame des Victoires Church's interior and whistles at the altar's opulence. Then she spots the glass coffin with an effigy of Jesus and frowns.
“With you people always reminding him of his worst experiences it’s no wonder he’s feeling gloomy all the time.”
Chester Roosevelt grunts and steps back.
“Many would argue that it’s one of his finest moments. Now share in the misery and come in.”
Royston Popplewell and Luna glance at each other silently daring the other to make the first move. Royston’s deadpan glare wins the day and Luna pushes him back and squares up. She mimics pulling up her sleeves and adjusting her waistband. With a swipe at her nose and a scowl, she walks through the threshold into the church. Royston follows soon after. They hold their breaths for a moment but do not burst into flames or turn to dust. Luna breathes a sigh of relief but rounds up on Chester.
“You lied to us! You said heathens like us wouldn’t be welcome. Well, look at us now!”
She jumps around doing a little jig and Chester turns away from her.
“Trust me, no one is as disappointed as I am about this outcome. Now settle down. This is a holy place. A powerful place. For some reason or another, the devotees seek it out on pilgrimage. Imagine willingly coming to a place influenced by the French-”
“Priest!”
Luna interrupts Chester as she points at a preacher walking up to them as if he were a celebrity. She crouches down and almost crawls up to the old man. He stands stiff but doesn’t flinch at the clown woman. She sniffs his shirt and pokes his clerical collar. Then she skips back and bows.
“Hon, hon. Oui, oui. Je dois confesser mes péchés aux hommes d'en haut.”
She starts to pull him towards the confessional booth. He looks at Chester with growing dread but Chester assures him by putting a hand to his own heart apologetically. The priest has no chance to reply as Luna shoves him into the booth and closes the door on him. She gleefully steps into her side.
Chester and Royston take their seats on the pews near the back. Royston looks around with curiosity. Chester waits for his reaction and holds his finger up when Royston starts to shrug.
“Aside from that monstrosity of a statue in the coffin, this place is home to a living legend. Over there lies the tomb of a bonafide Saint. We are sitting in the midst of one Saint François de Laval. He was a good man and… that is all. He received the beat because he was the first bishop of Quebec I think. A victim of luck and chance gave him the good fortune of having his soul purified and held up in one of the highest of regards. Now he lies under brass and chrome for tourists and believers to gawk at.”
Royston looks over at the tomb in the distance. The cover is shaped in the image of the man with his robes and skull cap holding his bible. He sits down slowly and nods. Then his eyes drift towards the statue in the glass coffin. Chester smirks at him with his big mustache getting slanted many degrees.
“But a martyr he was not, eh? Laval was an extraordinary man. He did his duty with enthusiasm and led the leaders of his people. Yet there was no great cataclysm to his world aside from the devotion to the cloth. It is easy then to just follow your calling. It calls and you go. Almost on auto-pilot coasting in the air to the inevitable landing. He lived, he became something, he died peacefully in his bed. It’s that conundrum of burning out or fading away. One of the questions we are faced with on a daily basis, and one question I am very familiar with after becoming a Snuff Champion. The nature of the thing and all being a very visceral one, I say that this question is at the forefront of my mind.”
He chuckles to himself while rubbing his worn hands together, letting Royston get lost in the atmosphere of the sacred place.
“Oh, I can coast on and glide my way to victory. I’m established and my work has been shown. Anyone stepping before me lately has been a sacrifice, fuel for the machine. But there is a hunger for a good scrap. One worthy of the title as I was promised last time. As I did not die, I’m here left wondering why. I am not going to let this championship be built on disappointments. So as you have seen the last few times I defended it, the competition has been left wanting. I’m starving out here. A two on one challenge? The wasted opportunity of wanton youths with itchy Twitter fingers and nothing more. Up and coming murder queen, next? I begged for her to try and kill me, and all we get is a flashing of some misshapen tits. Oh, I made her pay for subjecting your eyes to those. Now it’s a challenge I am promised with this Veronica Strader.”
He leans in to get nearer to Royston again and motions at the space between Saint Laval in his tomb and Jesus in his glass coffin.
“Where do you think she falls on this spectrum?”
Royston tilts his head in thought and mimes putting a noose on his neck and hangs himself. Chester leans back into his pew.
“It doesn’t matter? Well, history does seem to be repeating itself for me lately... But I have a feeling this time. She won this opportunity in a match. Came in all guns blazing riding on the perceived reputation she believes she built up for herself from a place nobody else cares about. But she defeated Cogan handily. That’s something I do believe in. You come with a promise and that does not become solid to me until I see it for myself. I won’t be fooled anymore. You can live safely and become a pioneer in the field of blandness or put some effort into trying to defeat me so that we may both finally add some blood to the title again. Good and strong blood. Not the blood of sacrifices. That is weakness.”
He points at the Jesus statue to Royston. It is only wearing a cloth and a crown of thorns. The important wounds are painted around the ribs, hands, and feet.
“I want to be put under the sword and come out venerated for my efforts, not like I’ve been through a stroll on a Sunday eve through a fog.”
Wood crashing against a stone wall makes them look to the side. The priest scrambles out of the confessional booth and rambles as he runs away to his office. He crosses himself before shutting the door behind him. Luna Baby comes out of her side with her arms out in front of her.
“Sacrebleu! Was it something I said?”
She makes her way over to Royston and Chester and grabs a bible from under the pews. Chester glares at her as she flips through the pages quickly.
“What was all that about?”
She shrugs.
“I told him everything.”
“Everything?!”
“Yeah! That’s the point, innit? Besides, that catchphrase your Strader lady has said would work. So I figure I’d let myself partake and tell-”
Chester looks confused.
“Her what?”
“Her catchphrase. A thing you repeat over and over to brand yourself and stuff.”
“She has a bloody catchphrase? Oh no. What is it?”
Luna squeals before revealing it. She tries to get tough.
“God forgives… I don’t!”
Luna claps and laughs. Royston covers his ears. Chester cringes physically. His body contorts in on itself and he holds onto the edge of the pew behind him in order not to fall over.
“Now I truly fear this match. I do fear the worst. I fear we will be stepping into a pool of mediocrity once again. Did she learn to be a wrestler from bad action movies and commercials? ‘You can’t handle the truth that I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse. Hasta la vista, baby. I’ll be back. Yipee-ki-yay, motherfucker.’”
He spits onto the ground.
Luna taps his shoulder and whispers to him.
“There’s a significant other as well. Fuck all to do with any martial matters.
Chester groans.
“There is a facade and there is truth. I’m going to find out what it is that she has behind it all. What is she forgiving me for? We have never met. Does she have a grudge against the whole world out of the womb? Is she holding a chippie on her shoulder as an ornament for excuses? Need something made up to sound interesting and instill fear? All I have now is doubt. There’s a reputation, I understand. But this comes with some doubt that she doesn’t understand what all this is about. This is a dirty carnie business and it’s been in my blood since the dawn of time. I’ll be damned right here in this church if I’ll allow some young crumpet to bring here delusions up in front me trying to intimidate me with them. I’ll tell you right now. I do not care whom she is fucking, and I don’t care for any cliches that come out of her mouth. I am Old testament and He does not forgive.”
Luna perks up.
“I didn’t know you’re allowed to curse in here!”
She breathes in to let out a giant curse but Royston covers her mouth. Chester takes a few breaths.
“This is my own little confessional so I can say what I want. The only thing I want to do in this match is to pull the real Veronica Strader out in the open. From what I can tell she is a person with walls up all around her as security for a brittle soul. Intimidating phrases and bravado meant to paint over the fact that she is a little girl way in over her head. She can wade well enough to come up to get a shot at me, but that is where it ends. She will sink like all the others but I think this one can learn from it. My experience will put her down, but her experiencing me should be able to save her.”
Chester places a hand on the bible in Luna's grasp, snapping it shut before she does any more damage to the pages.
“I swear to use whatever this match offers us to make her into the martyr she wants to be. The time for living a safe life coasting on a name and a promise is over. It’s Cult time. That’s a time for blood. If anything of note is to be happening in this match it’s if I drag it out of her. In the end, I should be the one forgiving her for how much she deceived herself. Either way, she’ll either continue to live the lie or she’ll be changed for the better. The only way to build a solid foundation again is to be laid bare and I’m going to strip that way from her along with her skin and flesh.”
Luna shakes in her place.
“Oh, I’m getting chills. I didn’t know you were one for all the extracurricular violence.”
Chester finally relaxes and shrugs.
“Don’t get me wrong. My body is my strongest weapon, but the title I hold requires a little imagination, and I’ll indulge the powers that be for now. I’ll let loose once in a while to teach someone a lesson. And this match definitely calls for that one. When the only thing you bring to the table is being tough like a million other people, there is a lot to learn about yourself in this business. I’m going to become the teacher and His instrument in the process. I’ll be her martyr.”
Chester gets lost in thought as his eyes focus on the cut on the statue of Jesus’ ribs. Then his gaze shifts to the side where the priest that heard Luna’s confession comes out from a side door. He holds a cross in his hands and is followed by two other priests and two nuns. All of them hold large crosses in their hands like weapons. Chester gets up.
“Well I’ve said my prayers and it’s time I leave you two to your business.”
Luna looks around. The priests and nuns approach from the side columns outside the view of the pews. Chester points them out to her.
“Whatever you’ve said in here seems to warrant an exorcism. I’ll leave them to it so that maybe your soul might be cleansed. Royston, you could do one too. Stay here with her. Let Him in!”
Luna growls and honks her nose. She jumps down onto the floor as Chester walks away to leave the clergy to their work. Luna bends over backward to walk on her arms and legs like a spider creature. Royston cracks his knuckles. Chester closes the door and screams are heard both tame and otherworldly as the faithful try to tame his heathen friends.
“You might. Depends on how he’s feeling as of late.”
Luna Baby leans in to get a closer look at the Notre Dame des Victoires Church's interior and whistles at the altar's opulence. Then she spots the glass coffin with an effigy of Jesus and frowns.
“With you people always reminding him of his worst experiences it’s no wonder he’s feeling gloomy all the time.”
Chester Roosevelt grunts and steps back.
“Many would argue that it’s one of his finest moments. Now share in the misery and come in.”
Royston Popplewell and Luna glance at each other silently daring the other to make the first move. Royston’s deadpan glare wins the day and Luna pushes him back and squares up. She mimics pulling up her sleeves and adjusting her waistband. With a swipe at her nose and a scowl, she walks through the threshold into the church. Royston follows soon after. They hold their breaths for a moment but do not burst into flames or turn to dust. Luna breathes a sigh of relief but rounds up on Chester.
“You lied to us! You said heathens like us wouldn’t be welcome. Well, look at us now!”
She jumps around doing a little jig and Chester turns away from her.
“Trust me, no one is as disappointed as I am about this outcome. Now settle down. This is a holy place. A powerful place. For some reason or another, the devotees seek it out on pilgrimage. Imagine willingly coming to a place influenced by the French-”
“Priest!”
Luna interrupts Chester as she points at a preacher walking up to them as if he were a celebrity. She crouches down and almost crawls up to the old man. He stands stiff but doesn’t flinch at the clown woman. She sniffs his shirt and pokes his clerical collar. Then she skips back and bows.
“Hon, hon. Oui, oui. Je dois confesser mes péchés aux hommes d'en haut.”
She starts to pull him towards the confessional booth. He looks at Chester with growing dread but Chester assures him by putting a hand to his own heart apologetically. The priest has no chance to reply as Luna shoves him into the booth and closes the door on him. She gleefully steps into her side.
Chester and Royston take their seats on the pews near the back. Royston looks around with curiosity. Chester waits for his reaction and holds his finger up when Royston starts to shrug.
“Aside from that monstrosity of a statue in the coffin, this place is home to a living legend. Over there lies the tomb of a bonafide Saint. We are sitting in the midst of one Saint François de Laval. He was a good man and… that is all. He received the beat because he was the first bishop of Quebec I think. A victim of luck and chance gave him the good fortune of having his soul purified and held up in one of the highest of regards. Now he lies under brass and chrome for tourists and believers to gawk at.”
Royston looks over at the tomb in the distance. The cover is shaped in the image of the man with his robes and skull cap holding his bible. He sits down slowly and nods. Then his eyes drift towards the statue in the glass coffin. Chester smirks at him with his big mustache getting slanted many degrees.
“But a martyr he was not, eh? Laval was an extraordinary man. He did his duty with enthusiasm and led the leaders of his people. Yet there was no great cataclysm to his world aside from the devotion to the cloth. It is easy then to just follow your calling. It calls and you go. Almost on auto-pilot coasting in the air to the inevitable landing. He lived, he became something, he died peacefully in his bed. It’s that conundrum of burning out or fading away. One of the questions we are faced with on a daily basis, and one question I am very familiar with after becoming a Snuff Champion. The nature of the thing and all being a very visceral one, I say that this question is at the forefront of my mind.”
He chuckles to himself while rubbing his worn hands together, letting Royston get lost in the atmosphere of the sacred place.
“Oh, I can coast on and glide my way to victory. I’m established and my work has been shown. Anyone stepping before me lately has been a sacrifice, fuel for the machine. But there is a hunger for a good scrap. One worthy of the title as I was promised last time. As I did not die, I’m here left wondering why. I am not going to let this championship be built on disappointments. So as you have seen the last few times I defended it, the competition has been left wanting. I’m starving out here. A two on one challenge? The wasted opportunity of wanton youths with itchy Twitter fingers and nothing more. Up and coming murder queen, next? I begged for her to try and kill me, and all we get is a flashing of some misshapen tits. Oh, I made her pay for subjecting your eyes to those. Now it’s a challenge I am promised with this Veronica Strader.”
He leans in to get nearer to Royston again and motions at the space between Saint Laval in his tomb and Jesus in his glass coffin.
“Where do you think she falls on this spectrum?”
Royston tilts his head in thought and mimes putting a noose on his neck and hangs himself. Chester leans back into his pew.
“It doesn’t matter? Well, history does seem to be repeating itself for me lately... But I have a feeling this time. She won this opportunity in a match. Came in all guns blazing riding on the perceived reputation she believes she built up for herself from a place nobody else cares about. But she defeated Cogan handily. That’s something I do believe in. You come with a promise and that does not become solid to me until I see it for myself. I won’t be fooled anymore. You can live safely and become a pioneer in the field of blandness or put some effort into trying to defeat me so that we may both finally add some blood to the title again. Good and strong blood. Not the blood of sacrifices. That is weakness.”
He points at the Jesus statue to Royston. It is only wearing a cloth and a crown of thorns. The important wounds are painted around the ribs, hands, and feet.
“I want to be put under the sword and come out venerated for my efforts, not like I’ve been through a stroll on a Sunday eve through a fog.”
Wood crashing against a stone wall makes them look to the side. The priest scrambles out of the confessional booth and rambles as he runs away to his office. He crosses himself before shutting the door behind him. Luna Baby comes out of her side with her arms out in front of her.
“Sacrebleu! Was it something I said?”
She makes her way over to Royston and Chester and grabs a bible from under the pews. Chester glares at her as she flips through the pages quickly.
“What was all that about?”
She shrugs.
“I told him everything.”
“Everything?!”
“Yeah! That’s the point, innit? Besides, that catchphrase your Strader lady has said would work. So I figure I’d let myself partake and tell-”
Chester looks confused.
“Her what?”
“Her catchphrase. A thing you repeat over and over to brand yourself and stuff.”
“She has a bloody catchphrase? Oh no. What is it?”
Luna squeals before revealing it. She tries to get tough.
“God forgives… I don’t!”
Luna claps and laughs. Royston covers his ears. Chester cringes physically. His body contorts in on itself and he holds onto the edge of the pew behind him in order not to fall over.
“Now I truly fear this match. I do fear the worst. I fear we will be stepping into a pool of mediocrity once again. Did she learn to be a wrestler from bad action movies and commercials? ‘You can’t handle the truth that I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse. Hasta la vista, baby. I’ll be back. Yipee-ki-yay, motherfucker.’”
He spits onto the ground.
Luna taps his shoulder and whispers to him.
“There’s a significant other as well. Fuck all to do with any martial matters.
Chester groans.
“There is a facade and there is truth. I’m going to find out what it is that she has behind it all. What is she forgiving me for? We have never met. Does she have a grudge against the whole world out of the womb? Is she holding a chippie on her shoulder as an ornament for excuses? Need something made up to sound interesting and instill fear? All I have now is doubt. There’s a reputation, I understand. But this comes with some doubt that she doesn’t understand what all this is about. This is a dirty carnie business and it’s been in my blood since the dawn of time. I’ll be damned right here in this church if I’ll allow some young crumpet to bring here delusions up in front me trying to intimidate me with them. I’ll tell you right now. I do not care whom she is fucking, and I don’t care for any cliches that come out of her mouth. I am Old testament and He does not forgive.”
Luna perks up.
“I didn’t know you’re allowed to curse in here!”
She breathes in to let out a giant curse but Royston covers her mouth. Chester takes a few breaths.
“This is my own little confessional so I can say what I want. The only thing I want to do in this match is to pull the real Veronica Strader out in the open. From what I can tell she is a person with walls up all around her as security for a brittle soul. Intimidating phrases and bravado meant to paint over the fact that she is a little girl way in over her head. She can wade well enough to come up to get a shot at me, but that is where it ends. She will sink like all the others but I think this one can learn from it. My experience will put her down, but her experiencing me should be able to save her.”
Chester places a hand on the bible in Luna's grasp, snapping it shut before she does any more damage to the pages.
“I swear to use whatever this match offers us to make her into the martyr she wants to be. The time for living a safe life coasting on a name and a promise is over. It’s Cult time. That’s a time for blood. If anything of note is to be happening in this match it’s if I drag it out of her. In the end, I should be the one forgiving her for how much she deceived herself. Either way, she’ll either continue to live the lie or she’ll be changed for the better. The only way to build a solid foundation again is to be laid bare and I’m going to strip that way from her along with her skin and flesh.”
Luna shakes in her place.
“Oh, I’m getting chills. I didn’t know you were one for all the extracurricular violence.”
Chester finally relaxes and shrugs.
“Don’t get me wrong. My body is my strongest weapon, but the title I hold requires a little imagination, and I’ll indulge the powers that be for now. I’ll let loose once in a while to teach someone a lesson. And this match definitely calls for that one. When the only thing you bring to the table is being tough like a million other people, there is a lot to learn about yourself in this business. I’m going to become the teacher and His instrument in the process. I’ll be her martyr.”
Chester gets lost in thought as his eyes focus on the cut on the statue of Jesus’ ribs. Then his gaze shifts to the side where the priest that heard Luna’s confession comes out from a side door. He holds a cross in his hands and is followed by two other priests and two nuns. All of them hold large crosses in their hands like weapons. Chester gets up.
“Well I’ve said my prayers and it’s time I leave you two to your business.”
Luna looks around. The priests and nuns approach from the side columns outside the view of the pews. Chester points them out to her.
“Whatever you’ve said in here seems to warrant an exorcism. I’ll leave them to it so that maybe your soul might be cleansed. Royston, you could do one too. Stay here with her. Let Him in!”
Luna growls and honks her nose. She jumps down onto the floor as Chester walks away to leave the clergy to their work. Luna bends over backward to walk on her arms and legs like a spider creature. Royston cracks his knuckles. Chester closes the door and screams are heard both tame and otherworldly as the faithful try to tame his heathen friends.
