recolle | Something's ... Not Right (Open)

Something's ... Not Right (Open)

WHO: Chloe and You!
WHERE: In and around Recolle
WHEN: 4/6-4/12
WHAT: Awkwardness as Chloe notices some things are not right with her body
WARNINGS: Nup

Option 1) It was a Thursday, like any other Thursday since she'd gotten this silly app on her phone. She was trying to keep her life normal and together, and doing a good job of it. In fact, following through with Yu and Naoto's request had helped a little, taking some of the worry away from her life. Having just finished her shift, she was walking back towards the bus station to get a ride home when it happened. There at the cross-walk, maybe she was a bit tired, but she started to cross before it was her light. There was a honk of distress from a car and Chloe acted.

Really, she wasn't in any danger. The driver was over-reacting and swerving successfully to miss her. But, the honk caused an immediate reaction. Her body launched back without her thinking, leaping up and into the air, sommersaulting back and landing lightly on her feet. The motion was far too limber for what she should have been able to do. It wasn't like she was in poor shape, but leaping like that in the air felt beyond her. As she landed, her eyes widened and she took two or three shaky steps back before falling unceremoniously on her butt.

"What... just happened?" she said, looking around in shock.

Option 2) When she wasn't helping out with the play, Chloe had a couple of days off on the weekend. She tried to visit the local gym to get a bit of the stress out. There was a horse set up there for those who wished to practice gymnastics, and she found herself staring at it with a nervous look in her eyes. Biting her lips, she walked over and patted it, reaching up to scratch at the back of her head.

"Should I?" she asked, wondering for a moment before going to put chalk on her hands. There was only one way to find out if the strange itching sensation in her arms and legs was real. She was feeling restless, restless like her body wasn't moving the way that it should, that it needed to move.

Option 3) There was bad news on Friday, news she did not want to hear. It had her in Starbucks, fumbling for a drink of mint tea. She wanted to calm her jangled nerves. There had to be a logical explanation for any of this. She was tempted to ask on the network, but at this point she wasn't even carrying her phone with her. She'd warned her boss that if he needed her to call the land-line, that she was trying to test out what happened if she didn't use the network. She wasn't going to break that promise.

She had to know if this was affected by the app, or if it was simply happening. But, as it stood, she was getting nervous and worried... and the tea was only helping a little.

Wildcard (Anything that you want can be managed. Chloe is off network for this week, helping out at the play and frequenting work. She has just experienced the return of her natural athleticism and agility, along with the realization that her hair color actually changed last month and wasn't dyed while drunk like she thought. It's causing her to start to freak out again. Either way, if your character wants to meet up with her, we can handwave that they left a message on her answering machine at home.)

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Karl did finally notice the sound of her footsteps as she approached, but he was still vaguely assuming it was the secretary or one of the volunteers just passing through the hall until he heard the cough and turned to look over his shoulder.

As soon as he caught sight of Chloe, he smiled. "Miss Bouchard!" he said, setting down his papers and turning his chair aside from the table somewhat to look at her more squarely. "Of course, of course," he answered to her question with apparent sincerity, broudly indicating the several empty chairs around and across from him in invitation for her to sit wherever she liked. A brief flick of the eyes indicated he had noticed the envelope, but his kind expression didn't change.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Chloe attempted a smile, but it was never especially easy for her to be completely comfortable in the company of one of the clergy. There was always a bit of awkwardness there for her, though at the moment it didn't hurt that Karl had generally been rather pleasant to her in all ways. She took a seat at the table and set the envelope down in front of her. On it was the address of the Retrospec company's offices in Tisse and standard postage. It had already been opened.

She frowned and shook her head. "I apologize, but it is not exactly pleasure that brings me to God's house today," she said, opening it a bit and withdrawing a single photocopied sheet of what appeared to be a very old book, but with absolutely no words printed on it. She set it down so that he could look at it and the look of puzzlement on her face was painfully obvious.

"This was sent to me in the mail by Retrospec. I thought, perhaps, a member of the clergy might know something of old books... though it has no words, so I do not understand."

"From Retrospec?" he said, and a rare sour expression passed over his face at the name. But he took the photocopy when she handed it to him, looked over it, seemed to be about to say something, and then stopped. He stared down at the image with his mouth still slightly open and his eyebrows creasing in puzzlement.

"... That's odd," he said under his breath, his eyes scanning over every detail of the image. "That's very odd..."

"Yes, of this I am well aware. First, they mail me a fork out of the blue, and then items begin appearing in my home that I do not remember purchasing. Now, this ... a copy of a strange page out of nowhere," she said, shaking her head in irritation and staring down at it as if it had done something to grotesquely offend her. "I do not understand what it is that I am looking at. If it were hand-written I would get out the heat lamp, as if this were a child's game, but that would not work. It is a photocopy, not invisible ink."

Karl seemed only to be half-listening as she spoke, his eyes still on the photocopied page, and when she finished he made a vaguely dismissive gesture with his free hand.

"No, no, besides all that," he said. "This page—the original, that is, the one that was scanned—it seems to be a parchment page from a very old manuscript."

He laid the paper back down flat on the table and began to point out features. "See the discoloration? The wear around this edges? The binding on the side? I think it's a leaf from a medieval codex, probably a bound book made with high-quality vellum. There's a 13th century vulgate Bible preserved in the library at my seminary that I handled a few times that looked quite like this."

He pulled back his hand and tapped his lower lip with his thumb, clearly puzzled. "What's odd is precisely the fact there is nothing written on it. Vellum was very expensive, so much so that older manuscripts quite often had the ink scraped off the their pages so that they could be re-used. But this looks like virgin parchment. Binding a book with a blank page in it like this would be a ridiculous."

She looked down at it and then frowned herself. He was right. This did look like a photocopy of a real page, and not simply a fake image produced somehow, and books were horrendously expensive before the printing press. Only rich people had them, and a bookshelf full was basically a library of note, wasn't it? So, why was there just a blank paper?

"Yes, I see what you are saying now, and it is extremely odd. I do not know why anyone would make such a thing, or bother to photocopy it," she said, shaking her head in frustration before her eyes widened and she looked down at the page. "W...no, no no. The girls in my vision mentioned a manuscript photocopy, but there were words on it. Why are the words not on this? Is this the same one?"

She sounded frustrated and confused by it all, but at the same time what solution did they have, really? The answers certainly weren't on the page.

Karl nodded absently as she spoke, still pondering this interesting anomaly. But then her change in tone jostled him out of his academic reverie and he looked back up at her, his concern evident on his face.

"You've had another vision?" he asked, but then cut himself off. Considering the content of her last one...

"I mean," he blurted, uncharacteristically awkward for a moment, "I understand if don't want to tell me everything. It's alright."

"Some time ago. I think this was something that they were speaking of." In fact, this vision had come before the one he encountered her freaking out about, but that wasn't something that needed to be mentioned specifically. "It was simply an odd tea party that I had invited myself into. They were concerned about this photocopied page they were looking for the book that it belonged to, but I thought there were supposed to be words. I don't know. Have you by chance ever heard of a group called 'Soldats?'"

She looked down at his paperwork and coughed once into her hand. "I apologize though. I shouldn't be keeping you from whatever work you're doing. It isn't too important, I hope."

He tried not to let show his vague relief at her vision being something innocuous this time. Then at her question he blinked, and that look of academic curiosity came back to his face.

"'Soldats'?" he repeated, then he glanced aside, searching his memory. "Well, 'Soldat' is a rank in the German armed forces, equivalent to a Private in the U.S. Army, if I recall," he said, "And the word itself translates to 'soldier' in several European languages, of course, but besides that... no, I can't think of any specific group."

Her cough interrupted his continued pondering and he looked down at the papers on the table along with her and chuckled. "No, just the eternal struggle that is Parish paperwork, I'm afraid," he said in mock weariness. Or, well, mostly mock.

Interestingly, a lot of it looked like work that could be just as easily done on a computer, physical printouts of forms from webpages and the like.

Edited 2017-04-15 22:11 (UTC)

Che considered what he said. The comment on the meaning of the word basically matched up with the internet searches she'd made already, which meant that it told her very little she didn't already know. It wasn't an organization, but it was such a simple military-style term that it could easily have been some sort of para-military group. She sighed and shrugged. "I suspect the answers will present themselves eventually," she murmured, not really disconsolate so much as just eternally annoyed with the situation.

She looked at all of that paperwork, though, and noticed the clearly obvious. "Father, if I may ask, why not use a computer for these? I'm sure even a typewriter would be faster for a few of these forms. It must add quite a bit of time to your day."

Karl's lips quirked in a smile that really was weary this time. "Oh, I usually would," he said, "it's just that half the time when I sit down at my computer lately, our favorite little social media application pops up pointless notification messages all over my screen."

He shrugged helplessly, then sighed and made a visible effort to cheer himself up. "Besides," he continued, gesturing at the window and the expanse of table, "the light and space are much better down here than in my office, and it seems a waste not to enjoy this nice spring air a little."

"Oh yes, that makes absolutely perfect sense. I've been off of my phone for a week, and I do not regret it for a moment. It's been rather relaxing not to think of the app directly until this came," she said, sighing and settling her head on the back of her palms before looking at him. "But, as long as it is not too much trouble, I appreciate the company."

She considered for a moment before shifting the paper to the side. "Father, would it be too much for me to ask you to tell me the story of the passion? I know I've heard it many times, but ... it would help me relax some, I think, to hear it again before Easter."

"Yes, I'm sure it must be," he said consiseringly. Then, with a hit of a cheeky grin, he said, "Frankly this whole situation has made me glad that I never really got into smartphones on the whole."

Karl was more than happy to provide her some company, but her request caught him a little off guard, though he tried not to show it. But soon a genuine warm smile settled on his face as he regarded her. "Of course, my child," he said.

He didn't have a bible immediately to hand, but fortunately he had already been practicing for the upcoming ensemble reading of the Passion according to Saint Matthew on Palm Sunday, so it was fresh in his mind. He took a breath and began solemnly:

"'Hear the passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, according to Matthew...'"

And it came to pass, when Jesus had finished all these sayings, he said unto his disciples, Ye know that after two days is the feast of the passover, and the Son of man is betrayed to be crucified.

She listened to him raptly, her eyes glazing over. There was something so comforting to hearing the old story told again. She'd heard it multiple times every year, told over and over again in her youth. It reminded her of the times her mother would read from the book to her. There was a relief in the familiarity of it all.

And, as she listened, she felt her eyes a little heavy, though she kept awake to hear more. She must have been working herself too hard. But it felt important to hear it somehow, like there was something to the message to comfort her specifically today.

Karl in turn felt an incredible calm fulfillment in her reaction. This was exactly what he was meant to do, to bring comfort to souls in distress by making known to them the limitless compassion of God. But as he recited the well-worn words, he began to feel... puzzled.

He often thought about the Greek or Latin text of a given passage as he read it; he had earned two Bachelors degrees and a Masters over the course of his formation in the seminary, after all, and much of that had involved close readings and historical criticism of the most ancient known texts of Scripture. But for some reason, as he spoke, his mind kept supplying the equivalent Vulgate passages of Mark, not Matthew, and even though the two books had closely parallel Passion narratives they were still different enough that found himself very nearly stumbling over his words whenever it happened.

He hoped Chloe didn't notice. She looked so peaceful, and he didn't want to interrupt what looked like a well-needed moment of mental and spiritual repose.

Chloe didn't notice, not at first and not later. She was lost in the moment, listening to him. But, as his memories of the writings of the scriptures became more vague and confused, mixing the Latin with the Greek, she too was losing track. She wasn't hearing Matthew anymore, and it wasn't a man's voice.

She could recall the taste of the evening meal still in her mouth, its simplicity and warmth. She heard a woman's matronly voice near, saying A Thousand years ago, the people saw the shape of the world. The words of hers replaced his and continued for a while before she heard something that shook her out of it.

'The blood of the Soldats will seep throughout the wilderness and flow into the great river.' Chloe's eyes snapped open and she froze there, lips quivering while she looked at the page she'd shown him moments ago. It was no longer empty. In French, there were words adorning it.

"Father... I...," she began, the confusion suddenly evident in her eyes.

Karl was in the middle of concentrating on keeping a pair of passages straight in his head when she froze, so it took him a moment longer than it might have otherwise to notice. When he did, though, he looked right at her with wide and worried eyes. It didn't occur to him yet to follow her gaze down to the page.

"Miss Bouchard?" he said with obvious concern, any niggling confusions of his own pushed firmly to one side. "Are you alright?"

She reached down to the page and shakily shifted it towards him. On it, in french, were the lines of what had the feel of a poem or religious verse of some sort.

A sinner, once passed away will never return,
but the sins will never vanish, and the love will never die.

The hermit also spoke thus.

The blood of the Soldats will seep throughout the wilderness and flow into the great river.

She swallowed and shook her head, perturbed at the impossibility of it all, and of the fact that she had finally just seen this mysterious Altena in her vision. "I just... had a vision, but you should see this."

Edited 2017-04-21 23:31 (UTC)

He looked intently down at the page as she pushed it to him, then blinked and glanced around the table briefly before his eyes widened and he stared back at the photocopy. Yes, that was the exact same sheet of paper she had showed him minutes before, when it had been a photocopy of a piece of completely blank parchment.

"It... it has text now," he said stupidly. His mind was visibly hung up on the physical impossibility of that for a few seconds before he even tried to parse the words.

Though he had periodically stumbled his way through a few French philosophy journals in college (a lot of the most significant contemporary papers on metaphysics were published in French), he didn't actually know the language especially well. His lips moved subconsciously as he tried to work it out. A sinner... won't return, sins will not... disappear? Love... won't die, a hermit says... the blood of—

His eyes darted back up to hers. "Soldats?"

She nodded at his attempts and began to recite what was there. There was a deadness to the recitation, like it was more of an incantation. Chloe was still struggling with the vision that she'd had. "A sinner, once passed away will never return,
but the sins will never vanish, and the love will never die." Her voice droned on methodically as she read it, though deep down she was sure she didn't need to read it. "The hermit also spoke thus. The blood of the Soldats will seep throughout the wilderness and flow into the great river."

Snapping out of it. "I think... I remember the story that she was telling me in my vision. It was about this Soldats. They were a group meant to check a great injustice among the people. I am not quite sure what to think of it, though. Some of what she said made sense, and a lot did not."

Karl stared at her in open fascination. He had been hearing about these "visions" for weeks, but he had never actually... witnessed anybody having one, or the immediate aftermath. There were a flood of questions in his mind that he wanted to ask her, as a curious scholar and as a potential recipient of these phenomena both, about both the experience and the actual content of what she had seen.

But then his eyes softened, and his held breath came out in a quiet sigh. He gently slid his hand towards hers across the table, and instead, in an equally gentle voice, he asked just one.

"Are you alright, Chloe?"

Edited 2017-05-12 13:17 (UTC)

"I... am ok, yes," she said, nodding a little distantly when she looked down at the page. "The vision wasn't an unpleasant one. It just involved me listening to the story, like it was my mother reading a bedtime story before I went to sleep. She... seemed to think of Altena like I do my mother." It had, in fact, been the exact same emotion involved, which was both reassuring and a little alarming considering that she loved her adopted mother quite a bit.

"The story sounds religious, but in the same way the knights errant might be. It's... I'm really not sure what to make of it, or how to feel about it. Who are these Soldats, and why do I keep remembering them?"

He nodded. She seemed a bit more settled by now, and he was relieved to hear that the vision itself hadn't been too distressing.

"Yes, it does have the air of some stories associated with old fraternal organizations and military orders, like the Knights Templar or the Freemasons," he said, looking down at the scanned document again. Then, a bit dryly and almost to himself, "... Or the Priory of Sion." He'd had a roommate in minor seminary with some very strong, very loud opinions about The Leonardo Code.

But after a moment he sighed and looked back up into her face. "There's no need for you to feel any particular way at all about it, if you don't want to," he said, in a voice that was gently firm but without reproach. "Whatever you have 'seen' or 'remembered', you yourself are a normal, good-hearted woman who has lived a normal and good life. Never doubt that, Chloe."

It hadn't, not by any stretch. Just... surreal, and really she was able to deal with that over the alternatives she'd had to deal with in the past. Listening to him, she made a motion with her finger and an 'ahah' sound. "Yes, like the Freemasons. It has that same feel as that, which... I suppose makes sense, and yet it does not. Why would such a thing even be needed? And if it was truly successful, would not the world be a different place?"

She nodded in gratitude to his reassurances, sighing some. "Thank you, Father. It's heartening to hear you say that." In more ways than one. She really didn't expect this sort of talk from her priests.

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Something's ... Not Right (Open)

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