Who: Cesare Borgia & Open What: Confession. Where: St. Michael's When: Thursday Warnings | Status: Religion, confession, blasphemy | in progress
Cesare disliked being back in a cleric's robes almost as much as he hated being in Madison Valley. But at least the ecclesiastical collar, laws and the order of the Church itself were familiar. That was comforting in a sea of misunderstandings, unfamiliarity and the general lack of purpose he felt along with everything else about his situation. The collar was stifling, but he wore it with the grace of any cleric among the modern world. He struck an odd symbol though, a relic of the past, because he wore a cassock in the traditional style. He'd had it tailored because the modern dress of the clerics was ... uncomfortable and strange to him. And though he was a man that could adapt to his surroundings this area had proved difficult.
He was born to be a cleric, as his father's oldest son. He'd been prepped for the church his entire life and it showed, despite his utter hatred for it all. Yes he believed in God, yes he prayed, but no.. no he didn't think God was listening and he definitely didn't believe he served God's purpose as a cardinal. He was only a priest now, he couldn't be restored to a Cardinal order without the Pope's grant, and he wouldn't want to anyway. He could be a bishop, likely, but even that was less desirable.
Cesare resisted the urge to tug at the collar on his throat and settled down into the box, looking sideways at the screen that obscured the other end from view. There was a rustle and the general sounds of someone settling in, Cesare could see them but not clearly. Confession. His confessor was the Pope of Rome, but who would listen to him in this place? Who was he listening to now? He swallowed, pushed away his general irritation and assumed the role of a dutiful cleric.
Raising his hand he said the Sign of the Cross.
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen." Then he fell silent and waited.