Disclaimer: see previous chapter
Notes: I'm not dead! I'm getting better! I think I'll go for a walk... Two chapters, in apology for the long hiatus. Review responses at the back of the second.
^w^ ^w^ ^w^ ^w^
Holiday
by Nightfall Rising
part four
^w^ ^w^ ^w^ ^w^
It really was a lovely church.
Services were held in the Mt. Kataaaart cathedral, which would have been the Mt. Kataart cathedral if the stonemason hadn't had a fight with both his wife and his mistress that morning. A real effort had been made to make the marble pillars supporting the arching ceiling resemble trees skirting a forest path, which was just as well. In another setting, the profusion of brightly colored hats every Sunday morning would have been tacky, to say the least. In amongst the 'trees,' however, they seemed to belong, like a bold, blanketing undergrowth of blossoms. The deep, serene rolling of the Reverend Ceiphied Aquaflare didn't exactly sound like birdsong, but neither did it seem out of place.
Strange though it might seem to laymen, church was actually one of any mazoku's favorite places to be. Feeding on negative emanations as they did, the combined guilt, shame, boredom, restlessness, and irritation of several hundred people trapped in a hall together for hours at a time to be lectured at by someone most of them respected was a delightfully sweet midmorning snack, made piquant by some people's genuine reverence, peacefulness, and admiration for the preacher. Furthermore, it was usually all fairly low-level, so that nobody's appetite was spoiled for a late lunch at one.
Of course, it did mean they had to listen to the sermons. But that was easy to tune out, and besides, the music was always good. Aquaflare's cathedral attracted the best choirs, and its acoustics swallowed most of the congregational flaws.
They did not, however, swallow disrespectful whispers from the congregation. In fact, they amplified them so that the speaker could know who hadn't been paying attention. Reverend Aquaflare was a nice guy, usually, but he had learned a few things from the family his mother had married into.
Which was why even said family was careful to keep a respectful silence during the sermons. His temper tantrums were legendary. A stirring epic ballad had been written about that little disagreement with his stepgrandfather Lei over whether the eight-year-old Ceiphied got to have dessert one night after obdurately refusing to eat his supper, and the author had barely exaggerated at all. They'd been having Ghia monster sweetbreads, that night.
Which was why Val made sure to slip into the vestry before services and explain the situation. The last thing he wanted was the wrath of Ceiphied coming down on his head, but his step-brother was a notorious romantic, and had a quiet sense of humor. Let in on the joke, he could be counted upon to cooperate.
It was, therefore, with less courage than fearlessness that Val turned to his father and whispered, "Mipross was lovely, Daddy."
His father, who chose to honor his wife's memory by coming to her son's services every week, but whom nobody was ever going to pry out of his trenchcoat even with a crowbar, nodded his great, shaggy head, and lifted an enormous finger to long lips.
"I met a guy there--he's coming to lunch today. Zel Greyweir."
Zelas deplored him with a sad, slow shake of her head, as shaggy as her father's but cream-blonde instead of red. It was difficult to tell whether she moved slowly out of genuine moral upliftedness or the urgent desire not to pull her bandages.
"I'm gonna marry him, Daddy," Val whispered.
"What?!" Gaav exploded
Ceiphied paused, and looked down at him with ill favor. Heads turned. Val settled back in his seat, using his horn for halo support. Gaav shut up until his stepson called for the collection to be sent round. Then he leaned over to ineffectively pester his teal-headed son, not noticing the collection hat, until Zelas, for the first time in her life, claimed the honor of being first in the church to rise with dignity from the pew, open her gilt-edged hymnal and lovely lavender-painted lips, and begin to sing.
[end part four]
Important Notes: This story is not only based but riveted into the cement of an absolutely marvelous movie called 'Holiday,' starring Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant, played respectively in this fic by Xellos Metallium and Zelgadis Greywhatever. If you haven't seen it (and most of you probably haven't; it's not even as well known as 'Philadelphia Story, gloom), please, please, make an effort to! This is a black and white movie! It's from the time when movies were about the acting and the scripts, and not about disguising the lack of either with splashy special effects! Go see it, go!
Notes: I'm not dead! I'm getting better! I think I'll go for a walk... Two chapters, in apology for the long hiatus. Review responses at the back of the second.
^w^ ^w^ ^w^ ^w^
Holiday
by Nightfall Rising
part four
^w^ ^w^ ^w^ ^w^
It really was a lovely church.
Services were held in the Mt. Kataaaart cathedral, which would have been the Mt. Kataart cathedral if the stonemason hadn't had a fight with both his wife and his mistress that morning. A real effort had been made to make the marble pillars supporting the arching ceiling resemble trees skirting a forest path, which was just as well. In another setting, the profusion of brightly colored hats every Sunday morning would have been tacky, to say the least. In amongst the 'trees,' however, they seemed to belong, like a bold, blanketing undergrowth of blossoms. The deep, serene rolling of the Reverend Ceiphied Aquaflare didn't exactly sound like birdsong, but neither did it seem out of place.
Strange though it might seem to laymen, church was actually one of any mazoku's favorite places to be. Feeding on negative emanations as they did, the combined guilt, shame, boredom, restlessness, and irritation of several hundred people trapped in a hall together for hours at a time to be lectured at by someone most of them respected was a delightfully sweet midmorning snack, made piquant by some people's genuine reverence, peacefulness, and admiration for the preacher. Furthermore, it was usually all fairly low-level, so that nobody's appetite was spoiled for a late lunch at one.
Of course, it did mean they had to listen to the sermons. But that was easy to tune out, and besides, the music was always good. Aquaflare's cathedral attracted the best choirs, and its acoustics swallowed most of the congregational flaws.
They did not, however, swallow disrespectful whispers from the congregation. In fact, they amplified them so that the speaker could know who hadn't been paying attention. Reverend Aquaflare was a nice guy, usually, but he had learned a few things from the family his mother had married into.
Which was why even said family was careful to keep a respectful silence during the sermons. His temper tantrums were legendary. A stirring epic ballad had been written about that little disagreement with his stepgrandfather Lei over whether the eight-year-old Ceiphied got to have dessert one night after obdurately refusing to eat his supper, and the author had barely exaggerated at all. They'd been having Ghia monster sweetbreads, that night.
Which was why Val made sure to slip into the vestry before services and explain the situation. The last thing he wanted was the wrath of Ceiphied coming down on his head, but his step-brother was a notorious romantic, and had a quiet sense of humor. Let in on the joke, he could be counted upon to cooperate.
It was, therefore, with less courage than fearlessness that Val turned to his father and whispered, "Mipross was lovely, Daddy."
His father, who chose to honor his wife's memory by coming to her son's services every week, but whom nobody was ever going to pry out of his trenchcoat even with a crowbar, nodded his great, shaggy head, and lifted an enormous finger to long lips.
"I met a guy there--he's coming to lunch today. Zel Greyweir."
Zelas deplored him with a sad, slow shake of her head, as shaggy as her father's but cream-blonde instead of red. It was difficult to tell whether she moved slowly out of genuine moral upliftedness or the urgent desire not to pull her bandages.
"I'm gonna marry him, Daddy," Val whispered.
"What?!" Gaav exploded
Ceiphied paused, and looked down at him with ill favor. Heads turned. Val settled back in his seat, using his horn for halo support. Gaav shut up until his stepson called for the collection to be sent round. Then he leaned over to ineffectively pester his teal-headed son, not noticing the collection hat, until Zelas, for the first time in her life, claimed the honor of being first in the church to rise with dignity from the pew, open her gilt-edged hymnal and lovely lavender-painted lips, and begin to sing.
[end part four]
Important Notes: This story is not only based but riveted into the cement of an absolutely marvelous movie called 'Holiday,' starring Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant, played respectively in this fic by Xellos Metallium and Zelgadis Greywhatever. If you haven't seen it (and most of you probably haven't; it's not even as well known as 'Philadelphia Story, gloom), please, please, make an effort to! This is a black and white movie! It's from the time when movies were about the acting and the scripts, and not about disguising the lack of either with splashy special effects! Go see it, go!