αɗяαѕтєιυѕ, тнє нιgн ρяιєѕт (
hymnals) wrote in
driftfleet2015-05-30 07:56 pm
video / action
Who: Adrasteius; perhaps you
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Bishop; kitchens
When: N to the O W
[Adra's in the ship's kitchen, seated at the table. A shimmering, golden aura limns his entire body, concentrated particularly at the crown of his blonde head. The faint impression of angelic wings blinks in and out of corporeality on his back as he speaks, sometimes seeming almost solid.]
I'm here today to speak to you about the Light. No, I don't mean that thing in the ceiling, or the sun, or any physical, mechanical sources of illumination, so let's nip that idiot question right in the bud. I'm talking religion, people, which some of you desperately need. A religion that isn't bullshit.
[He leans forward; steeples his hands.]
First of all: no gods. No capital G 'God' or 'Maker' or 'Creator' or what-have-you. No offense if that's part of the dogma, I guess, but it doesn't strike me right. Most of the gods I've met needed a swift kick to their many-mouthed faces, personally.
Second of all: no judgment. Of course, those who wield the Light can and must judge, but the Light itself brooks no discrimination. Whatever you've done, and for whatever reason you've done it, the Light forgives. The Light is grace: by definition, ever present, albeit never deserved. A gift of the universe.
Because, you see, the Light is an omnipresent, divine force. It is the name we give to every person's individual connection the universe. Under its teaching, we recognize our place in the great span of space and time--and our responsibility to influence the universe positively, to bring comfort, to soothe pain, to offer hope.
[Adra gestures with his hands, and as he does so, Light sparks from his fingers. The energy darts around the room, looking for all the world like a cascade of shooting stars. He might be trying to show off a little--or, at least, just trying to demonstrate that what he's talking about can be empirically observed.]
Practitioners follow a path of three virtues: respect, tenacity, and compassion, taught in that order. Don't worry: I won't go into it. Not today.
[But another day. Sooner rather than later.
The glow around his body fades. He smiles, a beatific, genuine expression.]
The point is--religion doesn't have to be damaging. It doesn't have to be oppressive. There are philosophies, churches, that work for good. Mine is one of them. It's here for you. I'm here for you.
Just letting you know.
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Bishop; kitchens
When: N to the O W
[Adra's in the ship's kitchen, seated at the table. A shimmering, golden aura limns his entire body, concentrated particularly at the crown of his blonde head. The faint impression of angelic wings blinks in and out of corporeality on his back as he speaks, sometimes seeming almost solid.]
I'm here today to speak to you about the Light. No, I don't mean that thing in the ceiling, or the sun, or any physical, mechanical sources of illumination, so let's nip that idiot question right in the bud. I'm talking religion, people, which some of you desperately need. A religion that isn't bullshit.
[He leans forward; steeples his hands.]
First of all: no gods. No capital G 'God' or 'Maker' or 'Creator' or what-have-you. No offense if that's part of the dogma, I guess, but it doesn't strike me right. Most of the gods I've met needed a swift kick to their many-mouthed faces, personally.
Second of all: no judgment. Of course, those who wield the Light can and must judge, but the Light itself brooks no discrimination. Whatever you've done, and for whatever reason you've done it, the Light forgives. The Light is grace: by definition, ever present, albeit never deserved. A gift of the universe.
Because, you see, the Light is an omnipresent, divine force. It is the name we give to every person's individual connection the universe. Under its teaching, we recognize our place in the great span of space and time--and our responsibility to influence the universe positively, to bring comfort, to soothe pain, to offer hope.
[Adra gestures with his hands, and as he does so, Light sparks from his fingers. The energy darts around the room, looking for all the world like a cascade of shooting stars. He might be trying to show off a little--or, at least, just trying to demonstrate that what he's talking about can be empirically observed.]
Practitioners follow a path of three virtues: respect, tenacity, and compassion, taught in that order. Don't worry: I won't go into it. Not today.
[But another day. Sooner rather than later.
The glow around his body fades. He smiles, a beatific, genuine expression.]
The point is--religion doesn't have to be damaging. It doesn't have to be oppressive. There are philosophies, churches, that work for good. Mine is one of them. It's here for you. I'm here for you.
Just letting you know.

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But I don't need a convert. I just need you to know exactly what I said: I'm here for you.
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Thank you. I'd make a terrible convert anyway, clearly.
[She's trying to lighten this up a little.]
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Syeira ... I'm concerned that I'm pushing you. Trust me, though: everyone feels that way. We all doubt whether we've made the right choices. I've doubted myself many times. I lost my faith, even.
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I know. Everyone struggles. But are they predestined to have their struggles spilling over into those around them?
[Hell. There she goes again.]
Gods, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump my mess all over your message.
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[Gently.]
It's all right if I can't, by the way.
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This is just
really public.
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[They don't get visitors a lot on the Red Fish. Would Zhas mind? Nunnally probably wouldn't. Nunnally is the Captain.
Gorion's also taught her manners.]
Yes, of course. If you'd like.
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[BING BANG HE'S THERE. HE'S WALKING TOWARDS HER. HELLO, SYEIRA!
Her reticence, both direct and indirect, was not lost on him. It's clear that there's something grave bothering her, and he's loathe to see it. Without preamble, he takes her hand and squeezes it gently.]
Are you all right?
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His hand is warm. Gosh.
Gods, she needs a nap.]
I'm ok. I'm not sleeping. Well more than usual. For me.
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[He casts his gaze around for somewhere to sit.]
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[Oh, yes. Right. Those manners. There's not a lot of space on the Red Fish. The kitchen has places to sit. There's a bed in her quarters.
As odd as it is sleeping in what is basically a hole in the floor, there's no real chance of any of the crew walking in if she's talking about something she hasn't....mentioned to most of them yet. So.]
Would you be all right if we talk in my room? There's the kitchen but...that's Iroh's space. And Zhas'.
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Lead the way.
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She does lead on, it's a short walk. It's a small ship. And uh, she opens the hole in the floor for him. She has to jump in first to do that. Stupid things liked to swing shut.
And the theme of small continues in her 'room'. There's the bed, which is pretty much what showed up. There's a whole lot of nothing else in there, except books she's borrowed from the library.]
I'd apologize for the mess, but there's not really anything to be messy.
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As ever, he's eager to dispense with formalities.]
So. You seemed about to say something over the network.
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We've sort of lost the momentum here. I'm not exactly sure how to say it.
I mean, blurting it out is an option. Would that work?
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Instead, he offers her a half-smile.]
I get everything done via blurting.
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The gods are very real and present on Toril. They affect the mortal world on a constant basis.
So, not very long ago, something happened that we call The Time of Troubles. Where all the gods were made mortal. Gods were killed during this time. But one god, Bhaal, the Lord of Murder, foresaw his death. So he walked the world for years before, begetting mortal spawn, to fuel his rebirth. There's a prophecy and everything.
"The Lord of Murder shall perish
But in his doom he shall spawn a score of mortal progeny
Chaos will be sown from their passing."
And if my life experience is anything to go by, the prophecy is extremely accurate.
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Aaand you're one of those begotten, I'm presuming.
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[What a very telling turn of phrase, Sye.]
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Okay, first of all, no one's guilty of being born. Second of all, so you had a shit dad. I'm not trying to be reductive, but--lots of people have shit dads. And, where I'm from, that does sometimes include horrific beings bent on destroying the world, etc.
People aren't actually fruit trees, Syeira. Your apple can go wherever it likes.
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