towerofanimus

Entry tags:

Tres

Characters: Spain, open to everyone~
Setting: Different floors~
Format: Action or prose; I'll just follow along.
Summary: More exploring, as usual. And a little confession.
Warnings: TBA

Floor Thirteen: Cathedral

This is something new. Spain wonders when did this appear, but decides not to dwell on it. Instead, she sits in a pew, clasping her hands together around her cross as her head bows low (inwardly she thinks she should have brought down her rosary). Her eyes are shut, but she's trying to hold back tears.

"Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia: El Señor es contigo..."

-

Floor One: Cafeteria

Sighing when she reaches the cafeteria, Spain recalls the number of floors between her dorm and the cafeteria. Thirteen, the unlucky number, which ironically is the floor where the cathedral is.

Shaking her head, she mutters to herself, "Must have been a coincidence..." before helping herself to the food. Two small meat pies, salad and juice. She wasn't that hungry to begin with.

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Jade's never been in a cathedral before.

Her small hands wander over the wood of the pews, over the stones used in the columns and arches. Jade's eyes wander up to the clerestory, admiring the stone and the windows that emit light through filtered color. But most of all, she enjoys watching Spain, though the girl isn't quite sure what she's saying.

So instead of interrupting the woman, she sits down at the end of the same pew and waits for her to finish.

"...ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén."

Spain looks up when she finishes her Ave Marias, noticing the little girl sitting beside her. She smiles, wiping a stray tear that lingers at the corner of her eye.

"Ah, Jade... hola, I didn't notice you."

He didn't know what he was doing when he stepped into the cathedral, but something had called him here nonetheless. Francis hadn't even realized the thirteenth floor seemed to house a sizable place of worship. There were pews and the standard cathedral affair and the bizarre thrum of whispered voices pressing against his ears.

Perhaps they were prayers from those that didn't get completely saved by the Tower, or maybe it was just their own unfortunate laments. It was uncomfortable to think over and he'd been intent to steer himself down the staircase, that was until he noticed a familiar head of hair bent in the pews.

This was no Notre Dame, but he was, nonetheless, respectful of this place for what it was and he settled in the pew behind her, just off to the side enough that he wasn't completely out of sight to her if she was to turn, resting a hand on her back when he saw how stiffly her shoulders were set.

"Who are you praying for?"

Spain, too focused on her prayers, squeaked and almost jumped back at the unexpected touch, turning around to see who it was.

"Mi dios, you scared me, señor!" she exclaimed, clutching her cross over her heart. She had half the mind to slap him for the interruption, but held her hand. After all, she didn't know him, and he was merely asking a question.

Still. It was a shocker. If she was human, she'd probably die of a heart attack. "Don't... do that, por favor!"

Francis sat straighter in his seat, a rather shocked look crossing his features. He'd only seen the woman in passing, never exchanging a word or name, but he couldn't help but feel a stronger tug of familiarity in him when she turned to him, only to scold him lightly.

Expression turning sheepish, he spoke up. "Forgive me. I never was good with letting a lady cry without trying to comfort her." Scooting a bit to give her her room, he rested his elbows on the backrest in front of him, hands outstretched and clasped innocently enough. He smiled a bit. "You alright, cherie?"

A short distance from where Spain sat in the cafeteria, Romano was poking at the remainder of his salad, forking a cherry tomato when he finally noticed her. He hadn't actually spoken a lot with the other nation since they'd arrived, and maybe it was because he was a little shy to.

After all, she wasn't his Spain. He hadn't known her all his life. That Spain he knew had vanished from the Tower-- a second time, and with him vanished what little hope Romano had. While he didn't know her well, a part of him wanted to reach out to her and cling to that little bit of familiarity she represented. It wouldn't be fair to her, he knew, but she was still Spain, and that alone was enough to make him feel less lonely.

Tentatively, he cleared his throat, swallowed his food, and called out to her. "Uh, hey..."

The first time the tower had opened new floors Romeo had excitedly explored them all, this time he had been more cautious. After all after the maze, and the darkness and the monsters, he knew that sometimes the Tower wasn't safe.

So he was surprised when he climbed up the staircase to find a church! Bigger than a normal church! Almost like what he had imagined Domm de Milan to be like inside. He wandered round in quiet awe for a while.

He spotted miss Spain and saw that she was upset but praying so left her. Instead he knelt nearby, shut his eyes and clasped his hands together praying that his friends and family were alright and if they wern't that they were in heaven with Alfredo. He stayed kneeling for a long time because it had been a long time since he had been in a church.

"I... I am not alright, señor," she confessed, looking down at her lap again as she tried to calm herself down. "I've lost everything dear to me, even though I've gain friends during my stay here..."

Spain looked up and saw Romano a few tables down, giving him a slight smile as she moved to sit beside him instead. She was still disappointed and upset over Romana, but it would seem unfair of the older nation to take it out on her charge's lookalike, even if they are essentially similar. And she wanted someone else to talk to.

"Hola, Romano," she replied, her voice soft. "Haven't seen you for a while..."

"Amén."

After a pause from her final amén, Spain finally looked up, smiling when she saw Romeo kneeling nearby. She was relieved to see the young boy unharmed; the rumours about suddenly missing people still frighten her, and she had prayed for everyone that she knows in the tower to stay safe.

"Hola, Romero..." she called out to him.

"Hello miss Spain!" Romeo rose to his feet and moved to where she sat on the bench. He stood near and smiled, "This is so beautiful I didn't think there would be somewhere so peaceful here."

He made a thoughtful noise and leaned in a bit to get a look at the side of her face, still feeling off-put by something. A confession hadn't hadn't been expected. "I have good faith that we will one day return to our respective homes and that patience will be rewarded," The man sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as well.

He was.

Deciding that they at least be on first name basis, the (apparently) Spanish woman and himself, he offered his hand to shake. "Francis, darling. I may be old but I never thought 'señor' fit me." The infamous grin lit of his face. He would get "What may I have the privilege of calling you?" to lighten the gray cloud over that pretty head.

Ven didn't know about churches. Honestly, he didn't know about angels and God and all those things. He knew that the architecture seemed like something his old teacher might like, but that was about it. He could recognize that it was some special place, though he couldn't fathom why.

And when he made it to the thirteenth floor, he also had no idea why some women was sitting there, saying something in some language he also did not understand. Curiosity killed the cat, because now Ven was lurking down the middle of the pews, looking at the woman with interest before speaking up. "Um-- what are you doing?"

"You're crying," she notices, scooting closer to perhaps hug the other girl but stopping a little short. Jade still isn't sure if she can be counted as that much of a friend. After all, she did hurt her other friends, and that wasn't--

No. She refuses to think about that. "What were you doing?"

"Ah, sí, I was crying a little..."

She continues to wipe at her eyes, then smiles at Jade. "I was praying, reciting my Ave Marias. It's something I do when I'm alone, or when I'm at church, like right now."

She had calmed down enough to sense that the man wasn't human; he felt more like a country, but who...?

"No, we won't," she quickly remarked, fingers tracing the smooth metal of her cross. "I mean... I don't know anymore. I've seen my world and it's destroyed. There's nothing left."

She took his hand, and then his name struck recognition in her. "Francis... the male France, sí?" she inquired, finding herself smiling slightly when he grinned. "I am Spain, but sometimes I go by Isabel..."

Edited 2011-08-31 16:31 (UTC)

"Me neither, querida," she smiled back, petting him on the head. "But it is lovely to have this place around, if only to offer peace of mind."

Spain was just finishing her last Amén when she hears a soft voice, turning to find a young blond addressing her. Offering her softest smile, she pats the empty seat beside her.

"I was praying, chico," she explained, keeping the cross back around her neck. "It's something I do when I'm alone, or in church."

Romeo smiled and nodded, "It is really beautiful, I think it's a bit like the big church in Milano but I never went in there," he shuffled his feet and looked thoughtful. "Do you think God can even hear all the way here in a different world?"

Edited 2011-08-31 16:43 (UTC)

"Praying?" Ven repeated, walking carefully to take the seat next to her, his face a mixture of interest and confusion. "What's that?"

He gave a quick glance around at their surroundings. "Is that what this is? A church?"

"Oh..." Jade looks up at the vaulted ceiling, studying it carefully. She's not sure why she wants to try this. She's never been in a church before in her life, much less professed a religion."

"I've never done that before. Praying I mean, or...going to church. We didn't do that." A sigh. "It seems lovely though..."

A soft chuckle escapes her lips as Spain shakes her head. "It is alright if you didn't do before..." she reassures the girl. "But having a faith gives one an anchor in a world of uncertainties."

"God works in His own ways, Romero. I am sure that, no matter what, He will take care of us."

Or at least, she hoped so.

"It's a form of address to God, a little like a request or a confession," she explained slowly, amused at the boy's curiosity. Ah, to be young and inquisitive again.

"Sí, this is a church. Or what a church would look like on the inside."

Romeo nodded, "I am sure he will as long as we keep being good and look after each other!"

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Tres

floor 13!

yay~

Blasphemy or Not.

oh you.

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Cafeteriaaaa

cathedral

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Bandwagon, Floor 13

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