The Faith Was Conceived...
Raiu
Per Aspera Ad Astra
- Location
- United States
"Is your life a mess?" The professionally flirtatious female voice announced, "Corpo tax collectors battering down your door?" A note of carefully measured concern entered her voice. "Do you want a better life, free of fear from repossession men? The Aastha Debt Forgiveness Cult is for you. Mistress Aastha's talented Faith Accountants will find hidden funds owed to you-"
You snapped the ad barrier closed, cutting off the damnable voice. You heard the words so many times they were in your nightmares. "'By the America Reconstruction Fund and the Trade War Survivors' Fund.' Using the funds you forced the people to pay into as a trick to get them to follow your phony faiths. Pah!" You, Eustace Tuck, spat as you turned back to your tiny chapel filled with half-remembered symbols and half-understood prayers. These small fragments of a long forgotten faith were worth far more to you than any perfect smile or unique marketing ploy. They were real, not manufactured, not pretty lies.
You stepped away from the window, pausing as you saw the golden circuitry which danced over your skin. Your sudden gift, which elevated you above your flock and which had appeared without warning or fanfare, was the cause of this latest sermon. For now, however, you willed the circuits to fade away, leaving you with nothing more than your fellow man had. Speech first, then you would elevate your flock.
Your attendance was never great, usually less than a handful, but with good words and the promise of a warm bowl of nutri-soup, you were graced by nine others this day. Eight were newcomers: junkies coming down from Paradijs' pills cut by unscrupulous dealers, workers from the Paradijs whore house two doors down, homeless workers who hadn't had a decent meal in months. Whether to get out of the rain, to find a quiet place, or to get a hot meal, these people came to you. You would raise them up, just like your great-grandfather had done before the Serene took over.
The eight were scattered around the pews, but the ninth met you at the door. The ninth was not a newcomer like the others. The ninth was a regular, your only remaining one.
[] Carter Mathews used to be a Stockholder, part of the 5% of the population who have the right to vote due to owning stock in a Corp. Unfortunately for him, the General Ford Corporation was merged into Eno, and his stock became worthless in nanoseconds. Left in a strange land after his attempts to keep his high lifestyle failed, Carter bounced from tele-faith to pleasure cult to dervish dance club, before finally collapsing on your doorstep. After seeing Com-Faith so closely, you could still see the shock on his face when you showed him actual faith. He met you at the door, "Mr Tuck, they're ready for you."
[] You're still not sure what her real name is, but Chiba has proven herself to be privately faithful. She was a throwback, someone who missed the days of the Chiba Cowboys and skies the color of tele-static. From what you could gather, she used your chapel as a hideout after digitally defrauding a Multi-Level Missionary organization, and decided she liked your message. "Hey Friar. Gonna start this soon?" Chiba said, flicking a projection out of her augmented eyes.
[] Well, technically your ninth member was two people. Two, small people who added up to slightly more than one. Giara and Bara had shown up on your doorstep as little more than babes and, following a vague recollection of tradition, you took the two girls in. They have since grown into young girls, though not yet on the path to become women. They were shy, and though you cared deeply for them, you could not deny they had few brilliant moments. However, they seemed to believe in your words far more than you did even on your best days. Such a pure faith was something to live up to. "Father Tuck, we're ready for your sermon!" The young girls said in unison.
"Would you please have everyone seated while I take the pulpit? Today is going to be a very important for us all." You walked up the center aisle, listening as your current flock took their seats on the pews. As you did, you tried not to look at the empty book holders or the knee rests whose meaning eluded you just as it had eluded your father. You did not need to pay heed to a reminder of your inability to find your great-grandfather's faith. Not now, especially with your gift which could come from no where else but the divine. You had found your own faith.
You took your place behind the pulpit, one hand gently grasping the old wood while you brushed the faint outline of a book on its surface. Every sermon you spoke, you had always touched the shadow of the book for luck. This time, however, what you needed luck for was not a sermon, but a homily. This would not be a stumbling delivery pulled from scraps of uncensored scritta paper, but an elevation of the spirit.
You looked up towards your audience. Many were still standing, some gazing at the door. No matter, you thought, this will do. "Thank you all for coming this evening. I hope the food was not too disagreeable, as it was the best I could do. My dinners for the rest of this month will be smaller, but that is no matter. I do not have subscriptions or mandatory dues like the so called faiths in this city, nor do I beg for donations. All I ask is for you to listen."
You paused, looking over your audience and making eye contact with every one. You could see the interest in their eyes, the moment of attention you have received. You had them, at least for the moment. They could hear your lesson. They would learn.
[] "Today, I shall talk about The Serene and their fall."
[] "Today, I shall talk about The Path and our home."
[] "Today, I shall talk about The People and a tower."
You snapped the ad barrier closed, cutting off the damnable voice. You heard the words so many times they were in your nightmares. "'By the America Reconstruction Fund and the Trade War Survivors' Fund.' Using the funds you forced the people to pay into as a trick to get them to follow your phony faiths. Pah!" You, Eustace Tuck, spat as you turned back to your tiny chapel filled with half-remembered symbols and half-understood prayers. These small fragments of a long forgotten faith were worth far more to you than any perfect smile or unique marketing ploy. They were real, not manufactured, not pretty lies.
You stepped away from the window, pausing as you saw the golden circuitry which danced over your skin. Your sudden gift, which elevated you above your flock and which had appeared without warning or fanfare, was the cause of this latest sermon. For now, however, you willed the circuits to fade away, leaving you with nothing more than your fellow man had. Speech first, then you would elevate your flock.
Your attendance was never great, usually less than a handful, but with good words and the promise of a warm bowl of nutri-soup, you were graced by nine others this day. Eight were newcomers: junkies coming down from Paradijs' pills cut by unscrupulous dealers, workers from the Paradijs whore house two doors down, homeless workers who hadn't had a decent meal in months. Whether to get out of the rain, to find a quiet place, or to get a hot meal, these people came to you. You would raise them up, just like your great-grandfather had done before the Serene took over.
The eight were scattered around the pews, but the ninth met you at the door. The ninth was not a newcomer like the others. The ninth was a regular, your only remaining one.
[] Carter Mathews used to be a Stockholder, part of the 5% of the population who have the right to vote due to owning stock in a Corp. Unfortunately for him, the General Ford Corporation was merged into Eno, and his stock became worthless in nanoseconds. Left in a strange land after his attempts to keep his high lifestyle failed, Carter bounced from tele-faith to pleasure cult to dervish dance club, before finally collapsing on your doorstep. After seeing Com-Faith so closely, you could still see the shock on his face when you showed him actual faith. He met you at the door, "Mr Tuck, they're ready for you."
[] You're still not sure what her real name is, but Chiba has proven herself to be privately faithful. She was a throwback, someone who missed the days of the Chiba Cowboys and skies the color of tele-static. From what you could gather, she used your chapel as a hideout after digitally defrauding a Multi-Level Missionary organization, and decided she liked your message. "Hey Friar. Gonna start this soon?" Chiba said, flicking a projection out of her augmented eyes.
[] Well, technically your ninth member was two people. Two, small people who added up to slightly more than one. Giara and Bara had shown up on your doorstep as little more than babes and, following a vague recollection of tradition, you took the two girls in. They have since grown into young girls, though not yet on the path to become women. They were shy, and though you cared deeply for them, you could not deny they had few brilliant moments. However, they seemed to believe in your words far more than you did even on your best days. Such a pure faith was something to live up to. "Father Tuck, we're ready for your sermon!" The young girls said in unison.
"Would you please have everyone seated while I take the pulpit? Today is going to be a very important for us all." You walked up the center aisle, listening as your current flock took their seats on the pews. As you did, you tried not to look at the empty book holders or the knee rests whose meaning eluded you just as it had eluded your father. You did not need to pay heed to a reminder of your inability to find your great-grandfather's faith. Not now, especially with your gift which could come from no where else but the divine. You had found your own faith.
You took your place behind the pulpit, one hand gently grasping the old wood while you brushed the faint outline of a book on its surface. Every sermon you spoke, you had always touched the shadow of the book for luck. This time, however, what you needed luck for was not a sermon, but a homily. This would not be a stumbling delivery pulled from scraps of uncensored scritta paper, but an elevation of the spirit.
You looked up towards your audience. Many were still standing, some gazing at the door. No matter, you thought, this will do. "Thank you all for coming this evening. I hope the food was not too disagreeable, as it was the best I could do. My dinners for the rest of this month will be smaller, but that is no matter. I do not have subscriptions or mandatory dues like the so called faiths in this city, nor do I beg for donations. All I ask is for you to listen."
You paused, looking over your audience and making eye contact with every one. You could see the interest in their eyes, the moment of attention you have received. You had them, at least for the moment. They could hear your lesson. They would learn.
[] "Today, I shall talk about The Serene and their fall."
[] "Today, I shall talk about The Path and our home."
[] "Today, I shall talk about The People and a tower."
Pfffffffft! 
