...
Sometimes, just sometimes, there are worse things out there than hangovers, vasectomies, and having your leg torn off by a massive prehistoric animal that for some fucking awful reason - still lives. If I want my stipend, I have to make due diligence, I have to go to church and I have to smile while I do it - I might as well call Sunday worship a death sentence. But hey, it if keeps people off my back about all the things they whisper about me. If they see me here, praying to rocks, they'll probably leave me alone. It is likely I will not be suspected for anything (not that I have anything to be suspect for/my whole life is an anthill).
When people ask me, "Why Solis?" I say to them, "He was made out of pure gold - I couldn't resist myself." -- it is usually the charming grin that makes them laugh (or smile) and I laugh (or smile) with them. And then they ask me "No really .. why Solis?" It is apparent they are the seriously religious type. It is obvious that they take this worship shit to heart while I use it for the chance to escape my maids who clean my chambers every Sunday morning. They usually get a little clucky with me about the state of disrepair my Saturday night soiree's leave the compound. But I say to them - always this - that this job of theirs is job security and a home away from home, less talking, more scrubbing.
The trip to Veneror is easier than it looks - for me, that is. The pilgrimage on foot is one I wouldn't take even if I wanted to. I love wings - I love big wings. I feel incredible being so far removed from all the people down below me, hoofing it in the hot summer sun while I soar through misty-wet clouds and cool my face and wax curls in my hair with the balmy ionic airwaves. It is incredibly disappointing to know that Veneror is so close now, if I could pray for anything - it would be for Solis to move Veneror farther away from the Mors so that I can have more time to think about what I don't want to say to him (or others).
Veneror seems to already be under construction, I didn't get the memo. Landing in rubble and taking a good look around - I wonder to myself, am I still drunk in bed with Tessa, Cheri, and Jack? - I'd pinch myself if I had fingers, but the cooling breeze that pulls at the chains on my neck say otherwise. The temples have been ..
I've spent too long inside the compound. Hearing turned up, eyes alert for anything moving, I have to assume that something might still be here. That something has changed without my knowing (many things have changed, actually) - but it isn't my fault this time. This time, my severe lack of love for Heaven and Hell have kept me from listening to the conversations about Gods and Monsters. While I've been streamlining my business, shuffling girls around, and making sure my collections are ready to go to market -- people have been praying.
But to what? Solis is missing from his shrine. Completely gone. Not a gold flake to remark where he stood so elegantly (honestly, I wanted to take it and put it in my home) but luxury always has a price tag. And as skeptical as I am of anything with or without powers being a lord over me .. you cannot help but wonder if I -had- stolen Solis, would I have been smote?
ALBRECHT
this is what you came for. this is what you get
