Act 1 - Scene Two - The Church

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Scene Two - The Church

I believe and profess all that the holy Catholic Church believes, teaches, and proclaims to be revealed by God.
- Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults, 491

https://live.staticflickr.com/8484/8272167673_3c5ea98bfc_6k.jpg

St. Leonard's was the first Italian Catholic Church established in New England, in the year 1873; the current building dating to 1891. To those who were familiar with the church during the daytime, St Leonard's had a majestic look. The gray stonework was made less cold by clinging ivy and fine rich statuary, and the stained-glass windows, depicting the stages of the Crucifixion, would bathe a visitor in a surreal red-blue light as would stop at the front to cross herself. The statue of Christ behind the altar was well carved and kept in good repair; it was lifelike enough to command reverence, but not so graphic as to frighten children.

Now, as the sun had set and night had come, this had all changed. The stonework outside dwarfed the visitors. The front doors looked impassive, as if God had become inaccessible until morning. The ivy seemed to slither along the walls in a wavelike motion from the foundation, as though something living was reaching out for the ground and grabbing hold of the church.

The inside of St. Leonards was worse. The statue of Christ was lit from the bottom, giving it a sallow, charnel look. Instead of having an expression of suffering on His face, Jesus overlooked the pews madly, almost hungrily. His wounds looked freshly painted and slick. The confession booths stood open, but appeared dark, the inside dimensions too dark to make out.

Aside from Isabella, Leonard, Moses and Serafina, there were three other people in the church. Just inside the doors was Hank, all smiles. "Welcome. Thank you for coming. Go take a seat in the front row; Andreas will be with you shortly."

Further up, by the altar, was the pastor. The pastor was not the priest any daytime parishioner would remember, but a dingy-looking Mediterranean man in priest's garb. His face was unshaven, his hair wild and flowing, and he kept biting his fingers nervously whilst arranging himself for Mass.

Finally, seated in the second row of pews, was a gentleman of about 50, his hair silvery, his mustache white. The man wore an expensive black suit and his features hinted at an Italian ancestry. The way he carried himself - the studied nonchalance and quiet menace - made an unbidden thought come to mind: wise guy.

Serafina arrived at the church early. Not too early to be obvious, but she had been pacing all evening so when it became late enough that her arrival would not seem overly eager, she left home.

Outside the church, she looked up at the structure. She had been there almost every Sunday for her entire life and more than a few time outside of that, but never this late. The place sent a shiver up her spine as she noticed how it loomed over her, strangely though the sensation was not at all uncomfortable to her. On the contrary.

She perked up a little bit and steadily walked up the stairs to the church, closed her hand on the door knob. She expected to struggle with the door, but even though it was heavy she managed to open it without much effort and stepped inside. Looking around she did not recognize the old man at the back and ignored him as she walked up to the front of the church and knelt down in front of the statu and bent down to kiss the foot of Christ.

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Not the best of first rolls
Serafina rolls 3 dice to Wits + Area Knowledge (Diff 7)   1,4,6 (BOTCH x 1)
https://rpgroller.com/wod/?show_roll=684094

Going to church always sent Leonard down the miserable paths of memory to his childhood. The heavy-handed discipline of the nuns, the overly-affectionate touches of some Fathers. Boredom, routine, endless carping on about what a horrible sinner he was in his natural depravity and the soul-searing shame of confession. He stopped going as soon as his mother got spotty enough to stop making him, but all it took was crossing over into the narthex to put Leonard back in the place of the scared 13-year-old boy he'd been when last attending Mass.

Yet the rituals all came back to him. He put his hand in the font of holy water and made the sign of the Cross over himself before entering. Again the same gesture, coupled with a kneel, as he stepped to the second row of pews. As he sat and lowered his head, his mind was filled with the dry, rasping voice of old women who had terrorized him as a child.

"Mass is the re-presentation of Calvary. Mass is not a party! Socializing should be conducted outside the church building. Silence is Golden in the House of the Lord" Leonard kept silent and still. Focus on the priest (who is in the place of Christ) during Mass, not on your neighbor. No time is more advantageous to you for gaining graces. He took out the rosary beads from his pocket and started to pray on them. Or at least, look like he was praying on them.

Church. What a pile of crap. Whatever. Andreas wanted them there, and what he wanted, he'd get. The Family would make sure of that. She'd gone as a kid but stopped as soon as she moved out of her parents' home. The sermons didn't really jive with her whole "liking women" thing, and the preachers were always annoying, creepy men. She swore she'd seen a few leering at the altar boys a few times, but she couldn't prove anything.

So now she was back. Fuck. And that was weird. The priest was a lunatic - not something you'd see every day. And she was pretty sure she'd seen that older guy somewhere. She was sure it'd come to her soon. This was definitely working up to being the creepiest Mass she'd ever attended, and it hadn't even started yet.

https://rpgroller.com/wod/?show_roll=684119

From the bench across the street, Moses observed two women and a man (was that Leonard?) enter the church. He didn't recognize either of the ladies and was curious what the angle of Andreas' offer was if it involved them. He hoped, a little more for their sake than his own, that they weren't the subject of this business. Moses had no qualms about moving booze, opium, rare antiquities, or any of the "banned in Boston" entertainments, but he'd steered clear of human trafficking...

"Anyway, its about time." Moses casually made his way across the street and entered St. Leonard's. This wasn't the church he was accustomed to attending for family functions, but he knew enough to not embarrass himself. The place had a different feel than he was used to in a church, more steeped in ritual than his past experience. It almost demanded awe, or at least quiet respect.

He nods at Hank after crossing himself with the holy water at the font "Evening." before making his way to the front. Passing the older man near the front, he swore he recognized him, but from where?

http://rpgroller.com/wod/?show_roll=684126    5,8,2,9,5 [2 successes]

To Serafina the older gentleman, when she spared him a brief thought, made her think of the nice barber on the corner of Moon and Lewis Street. Upon kneeling in front of Christ, she felt as if His ravenous eyes were boring into her.

Isabella, Moses and Leonard all recognized the older man. Stephano Giovanni. His face had been in the papers lately, described as a "local businessman and reputed mobster." Isabella knew Stephano was a relative from a different branch of the family, and something of a rough customer. Leonard and Moses knew Stephano was a made man and a caporegime - which roughly put him in sergeant's position, running his own crew.

Slowly, more people started trickling in, populating the pews sparsely. These late arrivals seemed haggard and worn - unkempt, dirty and probably homeless in some cases.

Leonard felt a strong, firm hand on his shoulder as Stephano loomed over him, seemingly caring nothing for propriety. With a smile that was probably meant to set him at ease, but looked more like a leer, the man spoke in a low baritone. "You're in the front row, friend. Let's go. Things are about to start."

Leonard, Wits + Streetwise, difficulty 7, 2 successes

Organ music suddenly filled the church, and three men entered from somewhere behind the front pew and walked down the center aisle. The first two wear black suits and carry a large, leather-bound book and a crucifix on a pike, respectively. The third was the addled priest the invited saw earlier. Behind the invited, the sound of the late comers getting to their feet could be heard. Stopping at the pulpit, the priest performed the Sign of the Cross with his left hand. The rest of the congregation repeated the motion, signing themselves with their left hand.

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

"Amen."

“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” The priest lead with the greeting, in Italian.

"And with your spirit."

The priest grabbed onto the pulpit with a white-knuckled grip. "Brethren, let us acknowledge our sins, and so prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries." The priest paused briefly for silence. The Priest then said: "Have mercy on us, O Lord."

"For we have sinned against you."
 
"Show us, O Lord, your mercy."

"And grant us your salvation."

"May almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting life."

"Amen."

The ceremony was familiar, and yet, wrong. The scarecrow priest, using of the left hand when crossing themselves, the use of Italian instead of Latin... To those of the Catholic faith, no matter how lapsed, the differences stood out. The haggard congregation took their seats as the priest reluctantly released the pulpit. Footfalls echoed over the floor as a pair of well-heeled shoes walked down the aisle. The man who walked up to the pulpit next was young, well-dressed, attractive man in his mid-20s. He was a slender, olive-skinned Italian with a thin van dyke beard and a cherubic smirk on his face. This was Andreas Giovanni.

Looking out over the congregation, Andreas gave the first reading in English, his soft voice echoing throughout St Leonard's. “A reading from Psalms, Chapter 5. ‘For thou art not a God who welcomes wickedness; evil can be no guest of thine. There is not place for arrogance before thee; thou hatest evildoers, thou makest an end of all liars. The Lord detests traitors and men of blood.’” Andreas delivered the quote with a quiet reverence. The next thing he said, however, was so spiteful and bitter that the invited unthinkingly flinched: “This is the word of the Lord.” The proper response was “Thanks be to God,” and Catholic characters probably answer this way. However, the rest of the church was silent.

Stephano replaced Andreas for the second reading. The older man's manner was less quiet reverence and more barely contained fervor. His baritone voice was quiet, but strained, as though he might scream at any moment. “A reading from the Epistle of Paul to the Romans. ‘If God is for us, who can be against us?... Who shall bring a charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies... As it is written: For your sake we are killed all day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Yet in all these things we are more conquerors through Him who loved us.” His concluding statement, “This is the word of God,” was delivered in a dreadful whisper, and this time, the congregation answered him: “Thanks be to God.”

The priest took the pulpit once more to perform the Gospel reading. “A reading from the Gospel according to Matthew. ‘So Jesus said, ‘Are you also still without understanding? Do you not yet understand that whatever enters the mouth goes into the stomach and is eliminated? But those things which proceed out of the mouth come from the heart, and they defile a man. For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies. These are the things which defile a man.’” At this, the priest lifted the Gospel up and hurled it backward over his head, the Holy Writ hitting the cold floor with a dull thump. "Please stand for the Profession of Faith."

The ragged congregation got to their feet. They spoke in Italian, but the Profession was very different from what a Catholic would recognize. “Don’t ask for something you aren’t prepared to take.”* The Profession was an old Sicilian proverb, clear to all but Serafina. If she wasn't mistaken, it was the state motto of Massachusetts.

The Mass continued as the congregation resumed their seats. The homily the priest gave, still in Italian, referred back to the readings. “Define your terms,” he said. “If God is for us, who can be against us? Who, then, is God? This being that detests men of blood?” At this, the priest bit his own index finger, gnashing his teeth until he drew blood, then began to fling blood into the audience. The invitees, seated as they were in the front pew, had little chance to avoid the blood splashing their pristine clothes. “We are all men of blood! [FLICK] All men, all are of blood! [FLICK] But some are weak! [FLICK]Some die, [FLICK]some die when born, [FLICK]some die in poverty, [FLICK]some take their own lives. [FLICK]I say to you that these are ‘men of blood’ that God detests, not those who are strong enough to take the blood they need.

The priest stopped gesticulating, the blood dripping from his index finger onto the marbled floor in a steady tap-tap-tap. “But consider also the reading from Matthew. If all these evils come from the heart, and the heart directs blood, it is easy to see why God might detest such men. But isn’t it those who can lie, cheat, steal, and kill who survive? So what does God want? He simply wants homage! He sent his one begotten Son to us, knowing that we would kill Him! But somewhere along the way, the most pervasive faith of all time was started — ours! So we give God what he wants — tribute — and we go about our nightly business. Remember the tribute. Treat those above you with respect, for God put them there for a reason. Disrespect them, and find your soul wrenched from your body to serve God’s greater plan, all the while with the Devil whispering in your ear for all eternity.” While he preached this sermon, the Father focused on the characters, staring, unblinking, at each in turn. While he spoke, Serafina felt the hair pin her aunt had given her grow suddenly colder, and for a moment she could see shadowy, gaunt, but definitely humanoid figures appear where the choir would normally stand.**

The priest then raised a gold chalice, and said - still in Italian, “Blessed are you Lord. Through your goodness we have this wine to offer, fruit of the soul and work of human hands. It will be our spiritual drink.”

*Wits + Streetwise/Academics, difficulty 7,
Moses 4 successes
Leonard 2 successes
Serafina BOTCH
Isabella 1 success

**Perception + Awareness/Empathy, difficulty 9, minimum 2 successes
Isabella Failure
Serafina (+Memento de Morte) 2 successes
Leonard BOTCH
Moses 1 success

As the Mass progressed, the small alien features mutated into some horrible parody of a religious service. Leonard had begun to feel uncomfortable, then perplexed, and then outright horrified and nauseated at the procession of events. If he had been asked to write up an account of what he imagined Protestants THOUGHT Catholic Mass was like, it would not be that different from this. Blasphemous, bloody, borderline insane. No, scratch that. Absolutely insane. He wanted to be done with this farce, find the nearest place he could get something to drink, and dull the edges of his horrified awareness.

Technically speaking, Leonard was not eligible to receive Holy Communion. He was not in a state of Grace, being unrepentant and unconfessed in his sins. He had, however, long ago ceased to care about sins, Grace, and the hypothetical state of his mortal soul, if he even had one. So when the time came, he got to his feet, prepared to take the bread and wine, and get one step closer to getting the fuck out of there.

The priest skipped the Eucharistic prayer entirely. Returning again to the altar, he instead began leading the congregation in the Lord's Prayer. Spoken very quickly, and scarcely above a whisper, the priest said in Italian: "Our Father, who art in Heaven, howled be thy name. The Kingdom come, thy will be done, in the next world and in this. Give us this night our daily blood, and forgive no one, as we forgive none who trespasses against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil of lesser men."  When the sign of peace followed, the other parishioners did not shake hands or even kiss each other on the cheeks. Rather, they embraced and bit each other lightly on the neck.

The priest again raised the chalice, and said, “This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to His supper.” Looking directly at the invited, he said, “You are not worthy to receive him, but only drink and you shall be healed.” No bread was passed, and no songs were sung during communion. Instead, the priest came down the parishioners, and offered a drink from the chalice. Andreas was the first to drink, and he lingered at the cup. Next the cup would pass to each of the four new-comers, to partake in the communion.

Moses hadn't really paid much attention at church since he was a child, considering it more of a social obligation than anything. Yet he knew that wasn't quite the correct prayer, not that anything else about this Mass had been normal in his experience. With only the slightest hesitation, Moses partook of the chalice as it was offered to him.

Isabella's eyes weren't wide as saucers, but only because she was keeping a lid on everything as hard as she could. This was some extreme levels of blasphemy - not that she cared about that in general, but holy shit this was on a whole different level. She didn't care about the Church or anything, considering what they said about people like her, but even she treated it with the barest minimum of respect, if only to not piss off her entire family.

She took a deep breath as it was her turn to drink, feeling that actively participating was going to have a heavier meaning than simply watching, and then drank.

Serafina was enraptured by the whole event, taking in every minute detail and diversion from the traditional catholic mass that she had been used to. As the ritual carried on, she noted several correlations between the diversions and the studies her aunt had sent her. She was not able to place the significance, but the texts she had read and the ritual definitely had a similar origin.

As the cup passed to her, she accepted it almost eagerly and took a sip from it, looking to Uncle Andreas as she did, before passing it on to the man next to her.

The longer this went on, the more Leonard became convinced that either every other person in this church was insane...or he was. This was all wrong. Not just in the sense that it was the incorrect procedure for the faith...not that he much practiced, believed, or cared about the faith. But it was wrong in the sense of its blasphemy in the ritual, horrifying in its teachings, and perverse in its mockery of what should be done here. Leonard didn't know what sort of people Andreas Giovanni was, though he could guess. He didn't want to know him any further. He was going to talk to Hank. This couldn't be something he did regularly. If he never had to again, that would be great.

Despite it all, he bowed his head and drank from the chalice. Blood of Christ, mockery or not, was wine. Leonard Test did not turn down wine, no matter how offended he was.

The wine was cold, just slightly thick, tasting neither sweet nor sour, but with a coppery hint. To a man like Moses - who had participated in more than one fight in his days - it was the same taste as that of a split lip or a broken nose.

To everyone there it was heavenly.

The wine brought with it a sudden rush of euphoria, along with a slightly queasy feeling akin to strong sexual arousal, coupled with a strange sensual increase. After taking the sip, each of the invited could see better in the dimly lit church than they could moments ago, smell the aftershaves and perfumes (or stench in the case of some of the parishioners) of those around them, and they could sense all too keenly the smiles of the other parishioners. The wine left them edgy and energetic, perhaps not unlike a hit of cocaine, and in the case of everyone, except for Isabella, with a newfound respect and regard for Andreas Giovanni.

Just as suddenly as the Mass reached its climax, it then concludes rather abruptly; instead of the usual Dismissal, the priest simply stated, "Go in peace, brethren. May God have mercy on your souls." He then cracked a strange, bloody smile and exited through the back of the church. The rest of the patchwork parishioners began silently filing out into the Boston night, leaving only the four newly inducted, Andreas and Stephano in the church. Andreas offered a welcoming smile as he beckoned each of you closer, while Stephano remained aloof, standing in the center aisle with the small of his back leaned against one of the pews, arms crossed.

"My friends," Andreas said softly, his voice echoing in the church, sounding like a sepulchral whisper. "I am so glad to finally meet each one of you face to face. More so glad in fact for each of you to meet one another." Andreas began introducing each of you to one another; Misses Serafina and Isabella Giovanni; Doctor Leonard Test; Mister Moses Dunsirn. "This is my associate Stephano Giovanni. I am Andreas."