2015-05-16 A Community Church
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
CCYY-MM-DD format
Players: Mystique Elaine
GMed by Mystique
Title: A Community Church

[* New York: St. Peter's Church *]
St. Peters is often referred to as 'The Christmas Church' because of founder Clement Clarke Moore, who created 'A Visit From St. Nicholas,' the worlds most famous Christmas poem.
Founded in 1831 to serve the growing neighborhood of Chelsea this church is a pillar of the community and is still a happening hub of activity.
The classic design of the facility is an architectural marvel. The interior of the church has massive ceilings that stretch high above the floor. All original old wooden pews line the middle of the church floor and aim toward the impressive stained glass windows taht sit behind the main stage.
There is a second level to the church's main room, with additional seating that fills up quite heavily during service hours.
Another popular feature of the church is the extensive outdoor gardens where visitors can roam through the carefully landsacped lawn and enjoy an outdoor oasis of peace and tranquility.


It was fairly late, the sun had gone down and the church was mostly empty at this point. It was mostly dark as well as few lights were kept on to conserve on power and spare the operating costs of this lovely old building. Most of the Church's staff had gone back to their chambers, or left for home and there was but a pair of people left visible inside the main chamber, an old homeless looking man sat in one of the center pews on the left side of the aisle and a priest could be seen near the front seated at a table and he was either reading a book or doing some manner of work within side book. The church was quiet, sounds from outside greatly muffled whilst the doors and windows were shut.
Just when it seemed that time had grinded to a halt and tranquility was to reign the heavy wooden doors of the church audibly open and quickly snap shut as another figure enters. If shabby clothing is any indication than this newly arrived individual is another of New York's homeless, doubtlessly seeking refuge from the elements or some other basic nessesity. It is clearly a feminine sight, though much stifled by a unflatteringly saggy and soiled grey tracksuit, her face is hidden in the mouth of a fully drawn hood. With the quickest glance of the church's interior, the woman reaches out with a gloved hand and falls to the seat of the nearest pew, where she remains seated with her head lowered.

A half an hour passed by and nothing in the church changed. It was a quiet somber place, the homeless looking man would occassionally clear his throat and even sometimes it would sound as though he might be crying… though it would be hard to tell for sure without furhter investigation. But then, a hand came down on the edge of the pew that Elaine sat at and it would possibly be a sudden and starling presence as it'd been so quiet… "Can I help you with any thing, young one?" It was an old woman, she appeared to be in her late seventies, she had short hair that was little more than puffy white cotton atop her wrinkling old face…. she looked sweet however, and was dressed in nice clothing that fit this place. "You look so sad…." The woman said.

The young woman herself did not make a sound amidst the echo'd coughing and gentle sobs reverberating throughout the church, rather she sat quietly, wrapped in her soiled clothing with the hood drawn over her head, apparently gazing at her lap. Thus it is only natural that the woman should straighten as the hand falls on the section of pew so near, her quiet reflection is broken and thus her eyes chance up at the new arrival for an instant and nothing longer, just enough to see a balaclava worn beneath with sunglasses hiding her eyes. Tensing the girl digs into a shabby pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and a pencil already sharpened down to the nub, the gentle scratching leaves a single phrase as it is held up to the old woman, "I'm very hungery" it reads.

"Oh you poor dear." The old woman replied, not really reacting to the mask or glasses under the hood. She put her hand out and gave Elain's shoulder a soft pat. "I made some soup for dinner. Let me go and fetch you some, okay?" She asked as she watched the feminine figure in the grimey clothes. She looked up then at the homeless-looking one several pews ahead. "Marcus dear, would you like some soup." Some sniffles were heard at first and then finally a super super deep voice replied. "Yes, ma'am." The old woman flashed a smile. "Mmkay, I'll be right back." The priest at the front of the church has not changed his actions… he was clearly writing something down on a book at his table and has yet to look up.

Dispite the grimey clothing the gentle pat reveals a shoulder apparently firm with health, a far cry from many of the homeless whom gather within the church. Quickly she begins to write on the crumpled up paper, 'Thank you!' is all that it reads when it is finally held up to the old woman. In apparent anticipation of a meal the girl does rise to a full stand, she is a tall girl, though her eyes remain quite down cast with gloved hands clasped together. It would seem she intends to follow.

The old woman does not appear to notice the girl rise and begin to follow her. She moves back toward the front of the church and takes a right through an open doorway that leads into a reception hall… that has big long tables and many chairs around them. There's also a kitchen area here with the lights on… a little tv is on in the corner and its broadcasting a tv singing competition. The woman hobbles toward the stove and to a pot that rests atop it… She starts to dish out two bowls of what would appear to be a very hearty stew more than it would a soup.

The shabby young woman only raises her head enough to see where she is going, the television is afforded a quick glance though attentions return to the stew and the individual prepairing it. It would seem she must be hungry indeed, for she stands ready to recieve the meal with finger fluttering anticipation, her weight shifts from one foot to the next as deep breaths are drawn. The excitment of a warm meal forces an involuntary remark, "It smells good…" she states in an astonishing voice, a voice so completely feminine, so objectively perfect that it would seem to have fallen from the lips of a Goddess. Never does someone encounter perfection in life, not till this moment, it is frightening to behold something so wonderous.

The old woman turns to look at where the pretty voice came from. "Oh, deary." She said, laughing softly. "I didn't realize you were there." She finished spooning out a bowl and then put a fork and spoon in it. "Here, go sit at the table… I'll bring it to you." She plucked two big bread rolls up out of a basket on the kitchen counter also and put them in a napkin. "You have a beautiful voice, my dear. You should be on this show!" She laughed softly. "And not writing down on papers."

Usually the sound of her voice has drastic effect, the reaction to true perfection normally fear, once such is conqured adoration follows. The old woman's stoic reaction serves to straighten the girl with surprise of her own as she reaches out to clasp the bowl with astonishingly slender and leather gloved hands. There follows a long few moments of appraisal before the girl backs up to sit herself down on the nearest bench, perhaps she would have said more but instead she turns to eat enthusiastically from the bowl. With one hand she lifts her balaclava just enough that the gorged spoon can be slid beneath and into her mouth, much care is taken to keep herself hidden.

The old woman smiled at the enthusiastic desire that the girl displayed in having the stew and bread rolls. She took some time to take a bowl out to the homelss-looking one in the main church and she returned with him to the kitchen area. "Yes, we're having a big meal here tomorrow. You are welcome to come, Marcus." She told him and looked to Elaine who she saw shoveling food under the mask. "Dear… how is the food?" She asks the young girl. "You look to be getting quite energized from it."

The girl is indeed covert in her eating, her face is never seen, nor does any skin show anywhere on her body, though it is clear from her shape that she is a teenager, she posesses the slenderness that only a youth can afford. The streets certinaly help her maintain such a figure, enthusiatically eating as she is, one would never suspect someone so ravenous to be so slight. She does pause however as a question is posed and seemed about to reply before Markus enters the room, thus she merely nods to the old woman before returning to her meal.

Markus was a man who stood at about seven foot tall, he had on raggedy old clothing and a dirty old orange wool cap on his head. He was a dark skinned man, african american, and he was carrying his bowl of stew. He shuffled to an open place at the table and sat himself down to eat, he didn't look at Elaine as she wasn't any of his concern. The old woman walked past Elaine and saw her smile. She reached out and patted Elaine's right forearm. "Good dear." She says as she went to the kitchen for a few minutes. "Dear?" She asked then back to Elaine. "If you'd like to come to tomorrow's meal you can do that also… its for everyone in Chelsea, its community driven to feed our own. If you'd like to." She gave the teenager a smile.

While the teen clearly listens to the old woman and her head tilts slightly as the large man approaches, never for a moment does she halt her eating or turn to look upon him completely. Still, as her hunger slowly begins to sate she cannot help but wonder how this old woman has been able to maintain such a stoic disposition despite having heard her voice. Usually by now someone whom she has spoken with is at her feet, praising, woreshipping, a hunger slips into the background more thought on this subject floods the teen's mind. With a furrowed brow hidden behind her balaclava, she turns to look on the woman as she moves to speak with the homeless man, appraisingly.

A few more minutes pass by before the old woman delivers a glass of fresh sweet ice tea to where Elaine is seated. "I forgot about this, deary." She says as she pulls a chair out across from Elaine and sits down in it. Shelooks across the table at the fully clothed woman. "Dear, are you in trouble?" She asks then, sounding concerned. "You look like you're… about to rob a bank." She smiled faintly then across the table at Elaine.

The young woman's fingers rub the empty bowl in her hands timidly as the older woman moves to sit down across from her. There is a long pause where only a glint of her sunglasses can be seen within the mouth of her hood, with a glance she looks over at the homeless man some distance away, she is apparently calmed by his distance. Then, turning her obscured gaze back to the old woman she begins to speak, her voice a chorus of heavenly angels to flutter the heart and for a moment wash away all saddness as the void within is replaced with absolute belief in the divine, "I'm sorry, I do not mean to be so secretive, but, but…" she starts, her voice gentle, beautiful and strangely magnanimus, "I have the sickness… I don't know where to go, my parents, they… I had to leave them."

The old woman's hands both go up to her own chest and she holds them against the floral patterend blouse she wears beneath her pink sweater jacket. "Oh dear." She says, sounding very concerned at the young girl's beautiful voice. "That is dreadful! Well you have found the right place, my dear… I can tell that you're a special case and that you should stay with us. We have many bedrooms in our basement and you are welcome to one!" This level of generosity does seem a bit odd. "But what 'sickness' do you mean, sweetie?" She asked then, suddenly sounding more serious.

The young woman straightens in her seat with hands still wrapped around the bowl before her, evidently she cannot wrap her mind around the older woman's restraint. It is not unpleasant, but she has not had a conversation in well over a year, "The kind of sickness you can't take to a doctor, the government will take me away… Or worse, I've heard about things like that… I thought perhaps, Godly people such as those at the church, might, help me, might help people like me. I know that the church has done things like that in the past…" By now this teen is not unaccustomed to people rolling out the red carpet for her, the quick offer of shelter is quite expected, "You must understand however, I do not command you, you understand. You must think, do you really want me to be here?"

"Of course deary!" The old woman said as she reached across the table and squeezed both of Elaine's forearms, should such an action be permitted. "We are a community church! Here to server our bretheren and I can tell that you are good people… as good as they come." She smiled brightly and showed off her old teeth as she looked over to Marcus who was at the other table in the room. "Men like Marcus there… we accept that kind too." She starts to whisper then as she draws herhands back across the table, leans forward toward Elaine and whispers "Mutants…" She straightens up in her chair quickly then. "We're a safe haven for all, but… for them specifically. They are a gift from God… such as yourself, my sweet dear."

It is the young teen's turn to gasp for a change when the old woman calls her a mutant, a self-concious glance is offered to the large man over yonder. As her angelic forearms are lightly embraced the sensation of awe is likely to creep into the mind, such a magnificent and perfect being, a slice of heaven on earth. "I've been looking for a place, I had heard there were places for us… I was told if I was out in the streets they would come and help me, but nobody came. I could have came here months ago if only I had known." A deep breath is drawn in, "I don't know what to do, I have nothing."

"You have us." The old woman said with a big smile. "You don't have to think about the streets again… they are dangerous and filled with those who would do you harm for simply being you, they are the sheep gone astray… their sins will be answered for, hwoever." She clapped her hands together softly once "How wonderful. You've found your way here to us… this is a blessing." She nodded to her bowl. "Do you want more soup?" She asked, even though it really was stew and not soup. It could be considered possibly odd how this old woman was so quick to know a mutant when she saw one, but nonetheless she seemed genuine in her words and intentions.

There are many questions that will doubtlessly creep into the teen's mind in due time, but youth and lonliness allow for but one thing, the sheer enjoyment of conversation. "I've not been able to talk to anyone for a long time…" she states in her etherial tone, to hear such a voice in a dark room would chill the most valiant heart. "No, no, I'm okay." she adds, still having a big piece of bread that she occasionally breaks off piece of and slides under her grotesquely stained balaclava. "My name is Elaine, by the way. ANd I can't thank you again for letting me stay here. I'll figure something out, I won't get in your way…"

"I am Eleanor." The old woman said as she swapped names and sat there across from Elaine smiling brightly at her. "And once you're all done eating we'll show you an open room… Get you some clean clothes and let you relax." She stands up from her chair and pushes it back under the table, she smiles some more at the young teenager. "There are more like you here, you'll be able to interact with them as you choose… Maybe you'll want to stay here longer than you expected." The old woman then turned and waddled off toward the kitchen area again to clean up her messes there.

Although such cannot be seen through the balaclava, the teen smiles at Eleanor's hospitality, Elaine has simply not enjoyed any true warmth for a long time. "That sounds very nice…" she says in a wavering voice, to hear a goddess wimper is to hear ones soul melt in holy light. With a small piece of bread in her glove hand the shrouded girl rises and moves to follow the old lady, evidently quite keen to be in the elder's company, "I don't know if I can ever say thanks enough!."

- END -

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