tampered | Log;Complete

Current Location: Automatica

Log;Complete

When; Jan 26th, evening
Rating; PG-13? talk of violence, occult,& all that jazz.
Characters;Father Vincent

snarky_padre_v and Walter Sullivan

holy_assumption
Summary; Vincent and Walter meet to discuss the past, present and future happenings of the Silent Hill krewe.
Log;

Vincent had suggested the backroom of the Automatica as a quiet place to meet with Walter, but really, it was only that much more muffled than the rest of the club.
He would have to hope that the thump of the rave music from the bar wouldn't aggitate Walter in any way.
After all, it had been the loud music that had covered up the fight the last time Vincent had gotten himself killed...

Vincent had, since the murders were written up in the papers, become sort of interested in Walter. They had crossed paths more than once in the time they had both been in the Hill, but as Walter was older than Vincent and, obviously, had his own agenda the two had never really met.

Walter did, however, have some sort of a past with Sister Claudia, from what Vincent knew. He would have to blunt his claws and be cautious if the subject of her came up.

Vincent had used this back room more than once for little 'encounters'.
It was no secret he was unhappy with Xuchilbara's flirtations with others, and this had been how he had relieved that tension and frustration.

Tongues would be wagging if word got out he and Walter had been seen back here together. He just hoped Walter was comfortable enough in his own sexuality to not take that kind of thing seriously, either.

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Walter scanned for the entrance to Automatica's backroom through washes of muted underwater colors changing a mile a minute. Blue and purple and green and blinding stark white flashed before him as he made his way through the throngs of people flopping about on the dance floor like wounded fish to the backbeat. He didn't even try to disguise his disgusted grimace.

He would have to find Vincent and find him soon, because this shit (and the shit dancing to it) was making him sick.

It wasn't hard to make Walter out amongst the throng; he stood a good head taller than many of them, and looked woefully out of place. Vincent stepped to the edge of the curtain and gestured, so that hopefully Walter might notice him and make his way there.

Vincent didn't look entirely "in place," himself. And although Walter had not actually seen Vincent in person since he left Silent Hill to attend Pleasant River University, he was still easily recognizable. Same mousy brown hair, same glasses, same vaguely vulpine features.

He had only known Vincent in passing, but he was the only familiar face that he was not inclined to eviscerate on sight, so he would have to do. Besides, what was that old adage, again? 'Trust your own kind before you trust outsiders.'

Vincent turned to go back to the table he'd secured. Walter would no doubt follow...or not. Vincent had to trust that he would, as he'd wanted this meeting as well. Still. there was that instinctive tensing of his shoulder muscles as he turned.
After what had happened to him that night in the cathedral with Claudia and Heather, Vincent had come to be jumpy about turning his back on anyone.

Walter cut through the crowds to the back without giving so much as a second thought to the imploring stares he was receiving. He had business to attend, and little time or patience for the teeming mass of cookie-cutter angst whirling around, trying to be alluring.

He suppressed a smirk when Vincent tensed up, and followed the much smaller man into the backroom.

[OOC: And here is where I take my leave for the moment. I'm winding down (and it shows), and I need sleep.]

(())

Might as well get down to business. Make light of things. Vincent knew full and well that he was in the room with Walter Sullivan.He knew what Walter had done. Could do. That Stanley, poor boy, had no idea what he was talking about. Walter was dangerous.

But then, so was Walter Dornez, so was Rosiel, so was Xuchilbara, Lacroix... even Alessa or Scarab could kill him had they ever wanted.
and now? if not before, Henry was something to be reckoned with.

And not a one of them, for all the talk of 'family' was entirely for him, and he knew that with sweet certainty. Just as he himself had done as Xuchilbara had bidden him to Scarab, just as they all had done to Enrico Maxwell with dark glee, so if Xuchilbara gave the order that Vincent was to be punished, even executed for his little extracurricular activities, his 'family' would watch on passively, even joyously as his pain was doled. Alessa, with that disdain, that pity, as though she knew him to be an inferior to herself.
Henry, beautiful Henry, with that hunger. He would eat that pain with his eyes. He would find it 'beautiful'.

Vincent needed Walter on his side, even if the moment could come the killer would turn on him.
The good ship Xuchilbara was sinking in the god's absence.

Could anyone blame Vincent for wanting to save his own ass?

"So," Vincent said, trying to crack a little joke, "how's about that guy Schreiber, huh? He really has his panties in a knot over you making a comeback..."

"I've noticed," Walter sounded less than interested. "I'll worry about him later, if at all. He is of no concern to me at the moment. For now, I want you to tell me everything; all that has transpired in the years since my 'death,' the rise and fall of everyone else, everything. You do know everything, don't you?"

Of course Vincent knew everything. That slippery little bastard had always been a ball of curiosity wrapped up in barbed-wire nerves, always looking into things that should be left well enough alone and otherwise ensuring everyone's business was his, as well. An irritating (and potentially fatal) habit, to be sure, but one that could prove useful to Walter all the same.

That threw Vincent for a loop.
Well, of course he knew everything, and loved talking about it, too.
Still...as Rosiel had said, with Xuchilbara decidedly absent of late, Vincent did have to worry about his own safety and future... he could only trust Rosiel so far as he could throw the angel and he knew it. Besides, if you threw an angel they'd just fly right back.

Walter was more or less the same situation.He could launch into the long story....but who was to say that would leave him with nothing more to barter? or that, having used Vincent up for what he had, Walter himself wouldn't just kill him and move on?

Still...he couldn't NOT answer either, lest Walter kill him out of rage at his noncompliance...a fine line would have to be come to here. He could not sell his information too cheaply.

"You know I'd love to do that Walter but really? what's in it for me? I guess it's no secret. Even in the short while you've been here, again, you must have both heard about Xuchilbara AND noticed his absence.

I need some sort of...stability, is what I'm trying to say. Someone to help me guard the secrets of the Order that are in such danger of being lost forever were something to happen to me... I'd at least like to know if I help you you'd be willing to give me some promise of your own protection. What do you say?"

"So it's true? The Crimson One has been here?" Walter had heard rumors of Xuchilbara's presence in the City, but had not known what to make of them. Why would the Red God deign to make an appearance here, so far away from Silent Hill? What happened to 'Thou shalt ever call upon me and all that is me in the place that is silent'?

No matter. He would worry about that later. Right now he had a bit of catching up to do.

"I will grant you protection, Vincent, in exchange for information, and... what secrets of the Order?" Walter's interest was most definitely piqued.

"He's here alright. Or at least...a very very powerful creature claiming to be him.
Not that..he's been here in the last few days though, sadly. but he has been here.
There are secrets. Things you wouldn't know. Unless you had some way to read the minds of the ones you killed, you should hardly be surprised to know there are things only the clergy know. Rituals. Spells. Invocations. And oh so much old history left out of the history books...I would like to share these things with you, Walter. I would. I had hoped for a time Henry or Alessa would take interest...but so far, they have not.
Look. I know the clergy weren't exactly kindly to you. Nor, in fact, were they to me. But none of that matters anymore. What matters is we are the last. If there is any chance to raise Her at last it will be us that does it. We need each other if that's going to happen...as I'm sure you must have realized by now no one person can do these rituals alone."

"Well, Walter began, "are you going to keep me in suspense or are you going to share them with me? And what does Henry have to do with any of this? He's not one of us."

He could understand the mention of Alessa, after all, though he had never met her, he knew her to be the 'Holy Woman' of the sect of the same name. Besides, he'd heard enough about her from Claudia, even if he had occasionally tuned the Alessa-speak out every now and then. But Henry? How could he possibly be involved?

"And I was perfectly capable of performing the 21 Sacraments on my own. I took a risk by leaving the Crimson Tome for Joseph and subsequently Henry, but how could Joseph have been the Giver of Wisdom if there was none to give? Likewise, how could Henry be the Receiver of Wisdom without first growing wise?"

"Perhaps that is why Henry is now involved as deeply as he is," Vincent said, "for one, he was here before I arrived; as were you, although apparently you've no recollection of it.You I had heard of, and of course, Alessa. Henry I met when the god revealed Himself to me. He made it known that his wishes were to allow Alessa to fulfill her destiny, although as this Alessa has come somehow from a timeline entirely other than ours, it was difficult to discern how it was she felt she had the same destiny as the other. Unlike the other, she seeks for this destiny willingly.

By that, of course, I mean bringing back the Mother," he was careful to use that choice of words in Walter's presence, "and establishing paradise.

I...there was an attempt to bring her using the reincarnation, a girl named Heather, who I believe you've seen on the network.
This was in the Hill, and initiated by Sister Claudia. I...it failed. I'm afraid I wasn't present to see what went on." It wasn't entirely a lie. Seeing as he'd been stabbed, and was lying dead or dying, he had missed the actual manifestation...

Vincent had the distinct pleasure of seeing Walter's glassy eyes fly wide open before slitting into glinting green jewels at the mention of Claudia. "So... she did try. She told me that she could bring Mother back to me... Do you know where she is now? I want to see her.

And what about Henry? Why does he have any reason to care about this other Alessa 'fulfilling her destiny'? I fail to see any logic in this, as he had been so adamant in stopping me from fulfilling my destiny," Walter spat those last words out with exceedingly virulent venom.

Vincent made careful note of Walter's reaction, keeping his best poker face. So. The wicked bitch had actually had someone who cared about her; who knew it would be Sullivan?
"I...no idea. As said, I missed the big finale. I'm sure she'll probably turn up somewhere." Vincent was glossing an awful lot of details. One would have to hope these ~minor~ omissions wouldn't return eventually to bite him ever so firmly on the butt...
turning quickly to the other subject on the table, Vincent added, "I think Henry's reason is simply put: love.
He is deeply, deeply attached to Lady Alessa, and would brave hellfire to make sure she was happy." Boy, was that ever true- good thing Walter knew nothing of the ritual Vincent had performed...

Breath halted dead in his lungs. He stiffened and went cold, and could almost have believed that he was dying if not for the fevered pounding of his pulse, felt behind his eyes and all throughout his body as well as in his wrists, throat and chest, that told him that he was still alive. Or as alive as he could be, all things considered. "Yes...she'll come back. Even if she died, she can come back here... She deserves as much for her sacrifice to Mother..."

Walter squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the heels of his hands against the closed lids so hard he saw violent stars blossoming in the inner dark. "So. Henry is in love with Alessa," he said ruefully. "How touching. But what does this have to do with me?"

[OOC: hinthinthint]

"Not...all that much right now. But you wanted me to let you in on what I knew...that's pretty much most of the lowdown.
Heather...you may want to avoid her. She has a bit of an attitude about our religion...her father killed Dahlia, after all.
At some point when he returns, you should probably speak with Xuchilbara. I'm sure he could help you with whatever you might endeavor to do while you are here.

I'll show you some of the high rituals, of course. But the night is no longer young. I promised someone I would meet them in a short while.
Can we talk on all this again? I'm quite eager to pass on to you the old teachings as they were taught to me. To be perfectly honest you seem the sort who might have a better grasp on their deeper meanings...so much of Silent Hill knew you could be fearsome, but so few would ever come to know that you could be so very wise."

((read:

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