Malachi Nichols (pillaroffaith) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-04-29 11:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | #october 2017, mal, mal x rebecca |
Who: Rebecca and Mal
When: Friday, October 20th, afternoon
Where: near the Witches Festival
Status: Complete
Going into town to pick up a book she had ordered meant that Rebecca passed by the imminent town festivities that heralded this weekend. The Festival of the Six held little appeal to her, as it was sanitized and presented in such a way to appeal to the lowest common denominator. She had attended with Terrence and Michael years ago, when it had been appropriate to do so. This had been sufficient, since it seemed like the sort of thing that was unlikely to change over time.
Besides, magic had always simply seemed like a clumsier term for that which was not yet fully explored and explained by science. Energy and psychic manipulation were certainly possible, though it seemed extraordinarily unlikely that any of the self-proclaimed witches who worked the event had any extensive knowledge of that. Such abilities were exceptionally rare and it was the sort of thing that only the truly idiotic would flaunt openly, given the narrow mindedness of most people.
Speaking of which…
There appeared to be some kind of protest being set up nearby. Religious in nature, if the sign mentioning satan was any indication. Her gaze would have swept dismissively past them, but her attention snagged on one of the men. He looked to be in his thirties, a minister of some sort judging by how those with him seemed to defer to him. Why on earth did he seem familiar? She walked a bit closer and paused to study him; she hated not knowing something with certainty.
Mal had chosen a corner close to where most people seemed to be filtering into the festival. He hadn’t been aware of this travesty early enough to recruit his entire church to attend with him, but he and Sam had drummed up a good dozen people who agreed that this sort of blasphemy should not stand. Or at least it shouldn’t be a municipally-sponsored event. Mal planned to write a letter to city hall as well, but protesting was a very visible way to express his displeasure.
They’d all gathered with some signs, most of which had Bible quotes on them, some about Satan and witchcraft, some with the old “thou shalt not suffer a witch to live” standby. It wasn’t quite that Mal thought every person masquerading as a witch at this thing deserved to die, but they did need to repent of their sins and stop welcoming the Devil into their lives. He was learning a lot of names as Point Pleasant citizens walked past into the festival, his followers whispering them to him as he got a passing impression of their minds. Those were often easier for him to recognize than faces.
Mal had a small bullhorn in one hand and a Bible open in the other, reading the Good Word aloud to the passersby. “‘There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch. Or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer ...’”
The words were impossible to miss, though Rebecca dismissed them from mind. Biblical readings meant little to her, since they were generally poor translations of something that was mythic to begin with. Was spewing carefully picked verses effective recruitment? Maybe for the already weak-minded. There were a few people who seemed to be listening to him with interest, though they may have simply been the ones with whom he arrived. Having edged closer, she was careful to keep her expression disinterested without appearing overly contemptuous, even if her thoughts ran in that vein. There was something about his face that felt familiar, if she could just place what. Was it just that she had seen him around town when he didn’t have a reason to protest showily?
Mal had extended his mind to the area around him, like drifting his fingers through sand, getting a feel for those who passed and drawing people in with a magnetism they couldn’t quite explain. There was plenty of doubt that walked by, and some scorn on top of that, but one mind in particular stood out to him. He looked up from the Word, his eyes following the tug of his mind to a distinguished-looking woman. Her thoughts were barbed, to be sure, but there was something else interesting there too. She was walking too close for him to aim the bullhorn at her, but Mal made sure it was obvious that he was addressing her. “‘But if I with the finger of God cast out devils, no doubt the kingdom of God is come upon you.’” A small smile crossed his face as he watched her. Mal was sure she would continue to judge him a fool, but she would see. They all would.
The pointed address Rebecca received came as a surprise. Since her teenage years, she had become good at hiding judgment from her expression, since polite disinterest tended to be the right amount of deterring without being too antagonizing to most people, no matter how her thoughts might run. Conflict that had no meaning beyond offended feelings was always exasperating. Tilting her head to one side, she let her attention rest a fraction more obviously on the man going through his pointless religious recitations. Despite the empty threat of his words, there was some kind of odd charisma to him that didn’t yet make sense. As with most things, it didn’t move her strongly, but she acknowledged it in a detached way. She would move on in a moment, but for now she waited until he hit a break to say coolly to him, “It’s incredibly unlikely that any practicing witches are here, you know. Or that there’s a shred of truth to any of this.” There was no interest on her part in defending witchcraft, but she wanted to speak to him a moment and this was evidently his preferred topic.
By contrast, Mal wasn’t surprised when the woman addressed him. He’d drawn her in on purpose, after all. Not blatantly so -- he could’ve had a crowd of dozens around him, listening raptly if he’d wanted it, but such uses of power drew the bad kind of attention -- but he had enough of a mental gravitational pull radiating now. It was an easy space for him to slip into when he was preaching. Mal gazed at the woman with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, sizing her up both on the inside and the outside. There were a lot of closed doors in her mind, so he didn’t go digging too deep yet. Where was the fun in that. “Is it?” Mal asked her mildly. “And what makes you an authority on the subject? If it’s all a lie, why waste municipal funds on sanctioning Satanic practices?”
Rebecca assessed the man in front of her as he sized her up, now that they were speaking. There was a coldness to his smile that was nothing new to her, generally speaking, and there was a certain familiarity to his face that didn’t quite align readily to anyone she had met within the past few years. His presence was what felt most familiar, which might have either been the sum of everything, something that couldn’t be distilled into its component parts, whether physical or beyond that. She wasn’t sure yet. With the practice of decades as to how she approached anything unusual, her thoughts were focused in and contained within the moment. There was a limited amount of time she was willing to spend on the religious opposition nonsense, but for now. “I suppose I view witchcraft to be as believable as god based on a lifetime of focusing on rationalism,” she said impassively. “So I see little difference in wasting municipal funds on ‘Satanic’ practices, as you call them, and any Christmas related festivities. Other people derive enjoyment from each.”
Other religious fanatics might have been appalled or offended that she compared this abomination to Christmas, but it just made Mal chuckle a bit, that amusement reaching his eyes. Oh, the people who hid themselves behind the curtain of ‘rationality.’ “Only the fool has said in his heart there is no God,” Mal reminded her, though he was sure she wouldn’t listen. That was fine, he didn’t need her to. God didn’t need her to, either. There was something interesting about her though, some shadow of a thought pattern that rang familiar to him somehow. It was intriguing. He would be remembering her face and looking for it later. “If you refuse to see the difference between this pagan nonsense and the celebration of our Savior, there’s not much I can do for you. But thank you for your concern. Whether agents of the Devil are really here or not, we will make our disapproval clear. The eyes of God are always watching.”
Rebecca, of course, cared nothing for scripture and this man repeating it to her wouldn't change that. Given that she was making no effort to pretend otherwise, he must know she would disregard it unless he was completely delusional, which didn't seem to be the case. He didn't seem as easy to nettle as she half-expected, but maybe that was simply arrogance on his part--it always seemed like there must be some of that for anyone to claim to have god on his side, even if it were only performative. "That you can do little for me is something we can agree upon," she said, adding derisive amusement in her tone. "For the sake of argument, what reason would god have to take a special interest in our town? In you and whatever... little church you've setup here?"
Mal caught her thought about his arrogance, which only amused him further when she showed plenty of her own. She didn’t know him or what he could do or not to for her, and Mal was tempted to flex his power and show her that. Show her how her precious rationality was as dependant on circumstance as anything else in this world. He could shut down the logical part of her brain if he wanted to, turn her into a purely emotional being, or get her to pick up one of their signs and join their side without hesitation. He didn’t though, because they were in public and Mal always had to play his cards close to the chest. It wasn’t time for that type of demonstration. So he just smiled back at her tone and answered her question. “The interest isn’t ‘special,’” Mal explained with exaggerated patience. “God is the all-powerful creator of the universe. He takes an interest everywhere. Nothing is beyond Him.” He paused, eyeing her. “He is interested in you, as well.”
Rebecca remained intentionally pointed with her demeanor and as a consequence her thoughts. She was self-aware enough that she knew she often came across as arrogant as well in her assertions, but viewed that with little concern. Whatever this man might be able to do to her was yet to be pieced together, whoever he was, was yet to be pieced fully together, but that would be something she could puzzle over later. His exaggerated patience was somewhat grating, but she didn’t let that show, giving him another cooly amused smile. “There are many theories regarding the creation of the universe, though it’s not my particular area of expertise.” She eyed him back evenly. “Is this God’s supposed interest in all why you feel compelled to make other people listen to your opinions?”
Ah yes, another admitted non-expert with an opinion they placed above all others. Man was such a self-important creature. Mal got into these types of conversations pretty often, so he wasn’t fazed by her doubt. Hell, sometimes he doubted himself. He’d come into religion later in his life, after all, and sometimes the wires in his brain got crossed and he actually believed all this, but sometimes not. It just depended on the day. Today he was a believer, because it was easier to convince people of things you believed yourself. “I’m not making anyone do anything, you all have the free will to walk away. Close your hearts to the truth. As you are doing now,” Mal answered mildly, making a gesture at all the people who were milling past them without looking. “But I would be derelict in my duties if I didn’t make the attempt to spread God’s Word. He calls us to witness for Him. It’s a free sidewalk, and those who are meant to hear the message will hear it. Can I ask what stopped you to chat, sister?” Mal smiled again, sure that she wouldn’t appreciate being called that. He couldn’t have cared less.
Scientific explanation evolved and changed over time as theories were proven or disproven; archaic religious tradition, particularly among those that ascribed too closely to the Bible, seemed to be passed down with a recalcitrance to change that was laughable. Rebecca continued to regard the man with something that was closer to amusement than anything else. It was definitely patronizing, since she felt quite assured in her belief that everything he was espousing was unsubstantiated nonsense. “There is that, though the bullhorn certainly extends your reach,” she said, shrugging dismissively. The use of the word sister didn’t phase her, since it was one in a string of words that held little meaning. “I stopped out of idle curiosity, which is coming to an end. If there’s anything more to it than that, I’m sure your god can convey that to you.”
“I’m sure He will,” Mal said agreeably. He doubted there was anything within the woman worth thinking about for too long -- though there was still that tiny bit of lingering familiarity that nagged at him. For the most part she just seemed like an arrogant skeptic, and those were more difficult to exert any influence over without attracting the wrong kind of attention. Not meant for his flock. But Mal made note of her face and the unique rhythm of her thoughts, just in case he came across her again. “I hope you have a blessed day, sister. Enjoy yourself.” He gave her a pleasant smile and a nod, not minding taking the initiative to end the interaction. She would probably want the last word, and what did it hurt to hand that over?
There was a lot of that Rebecca compartmentalized and stored within her mind, a warren that she had cultivated over time as it aided in keeping a high volume of information organized. She would have to go through it later, now that she had interacted with this man enough to have committed enough of his face and voice to hold in mind until she either figured out what the potential connection might be or if she might be mistaken and could dismiss him entirely from thought. For now, in the immediate moment, she regarded him with amused dismissal, smiling politely in return but not wasting further words as she turned to take her leave. There was certainly something intriguing about him, so she hoped he didn’t simply end up being another run-of-the-mill religious zealot. She always enjoyed unravelling a puzzle.