St. Cecilia Catholic Church
A small entry hall lit by a single chandelier contains a bulletin board for parish news, and a rack containing various church brochures. In the left corner is a barrel marked "City Food Drive".
The church is a generally open and lofty place, several chandeliers hanging from the arched cathedral ceiling. A huge stained glass window above the door washes the pulpit in color. Pews of dark wood have the slightly polished and used look due to the decades of parishioners using them. As well, the kneeling bars look well worn. At the back of each pew are hymnals and the Book of Common Prayer.
The altar is on a dais, carpeted with crimson and surrounded by a small rail. To the right is the lectern, to the left the pulpit. Above the altar is a suspended wooden cross.
The local church is not a place Ivan volunteers to go usually. The man isn't particularly religious, and when he is feeling spiritual, considers himself agnostic rather then belonging to some denomination. But frankly, with all the public exposure he's been getting these days - he realizes the need to reinvent himself. The need to at least give the public a chance to see a different part of himself, even if it is exaggerated and an orchestrated manipulation.
This is why, Friday afternoon, a professional looking Ivan steps out of the confessional, dusting his clothing off with a cross dangling around his neck. See? He's a reformed jerkface, he is! Honest!
Sure. Politicians and political aspirants who try to change themselves via religion are always reformed. Granted, Hope isn't here for any religious reasons whatsoever. She has her beliefs, and her own church. While she is a devoted Christian, she doesn't go so far as to follow the Catholic doctrine — not that there's anything wrong with it, it's just not her way of looking at the world.
This afternoon, still vehicle-less, the newly blonde Tyler twin waltzes right into the church. She pauses briefly, taking a look around to see if anyone can help her with the large parcel she's carrying. When the weight of it becomes too much, she sets it down on a nearby pew bench and leans against the side of it momentarily, to give her poor broken toes a rest.
With Ivan's daily devotional and confession having been given, he proceeds to lift the emblem on his necklace to his lips to give it a quick kiss, already preparing himself to leave for the exit. However, before he does so, he glances around the establishment in a rather idle fashion. Normally, he'd move on with his life at this point - but today is far from normal.
Today, he has just caught a glimpse of Hope Tyler. There is no question about her identity, thanks to her newly dyed hair. There is, however, trepidation about how to deal with her. Nervously, he glances around, trying to decide whether to carry on without interaction or whether to try and approach the woman.
Apparently, Ivan is a glutton for punishment. "…Hope?" He offers, soft and surprisingly gentle in tone. After all - it is a church.
Quiet as the word is, it causes her to jump. Normally jumpy, Hope seems to be even more paranoid and jumpy of late. She spins around, putting pressure on her foot. With a cry, she crumples to the floor. Exhaling a heavy sigh, she pulls herself back up with a slight wince. Middle of the afternoon. Guaranteed not a vampire. When she spots Ivan, she looks through him a little bit and then just nods.
"I'm looking for someone. I guess I'm too early." A glance is offered to the cross, and then to the confessional. "Since when are you Catholic?"
Automatically, the man is hit with a load of guilt at the sheer jumpy terror she exhibits. Ivan automatically lifts his hands, angling them towards her in an attempt to settle her - but then he recalls that this twin is not exactly his biggest fan and allows the appendage to fall, uselessly, to his side once again. "I'm sorry," he offers, almost gently. "I didn't mean to startle you. I should have…" Well. How else was he supposed to approach her? Since he is at a loss, he ends up trailing off and never completing the thought.
"I'm not, exactly. Catholic, that is. I don't belong to any particular church, but…I figured I could use some spiritual guidance, lately. It couldn't hurt, anyway. So…is this where you congregate?" After a moment of thoughtful silence, he brings up the question that was bound to pop up sometime. One that he poses so often to her sister. "…Are you alright?"
"No, I'm not Catholic," Hope points out. "I'm just looking for someone." Who isn't here. Which means she'll have to see if he's got an office in the back or something. "He was very helpful, so I made something for him," she says pointing to the box. Hope is not freaking out, she's not yelling at Ivan. She's barely even aware that it /is/ Ivan. Which should be enough to concern anyone. "I'd be better if people quit asking me if I was alright."
There is only so much she can hear that question without getting really upset after all.
"No, the Fellowship church has more windows, is much sunnier, and less… well… Catholic." A half-grin, then she's looking around. "Maybe you've seen him though? He's about this tall," Her hand held out at about five-eleven-height. "Brownish hair, blue eyes, dresses really sharply…"
"Err. Sorry," Ivan repeats yet again, sounding quite sheepish as he rubs at the nape of his neck with a hand. But the way he examines her, from head to toe with his eyes…well, it seems that Ivan believed he was justified in his inquiry. "You just look a lot…different then before. A little bit banged up, too. What happened to…well?" A wave gestures to the general direction of first her head then her feet. "And…I wanted to say thank you. For the text you sent me the other day."
Aware that this might be too much for the woman to process, he offers her a way out. "How old was he? I've seen someone like that around, but…" Beat. "Hey, you know what, I've got a couple of minutes. I can help you find him, if you'd like."
Fingers draw up a few strands of hair, and she shakes her head. "Breakup," she points out. Then the fingers point at her foot. "Bowling ball." She's sure he can surmise what happened from that. The fingers are a little more delicate as Hope traces them over the bandage on her forehead. "Totaled my car after leaving the bowling alley. Mr. Hartigan was kind enough to help me and stay with me at the hospital." Her expression looks quite panicked. "/Don't/ tell her. I didn't want her to know and worry."
She seems to have to think about the age though. "I'm not sure. Not much older than me though, I don't think. Even though he talks like he's in his forties. It's the profession."
Ivan narrows his eyes in a speculative manner, lips pursing slightly as he appraises her current condition and decides upon the legitimacy of her request. "…Are you sure you're doing alright?" He inquires of her, low and hesitant, but he follows up on the query with a sigh. "But, I wont tell her. If you're sure, then I'll respect your wishes." This is, really, all the man can offer. Reluctantly, he tears his eyes away from the bottle blonde, scanning the room. "Have you looked near the back, where the offices are kept?" He offers, since he doesn't want to push the other topics of conversation.
"Considering the circumstances, and the fact that I'm now a magnet for those vile creatures, I'm /fine/." The last word emphasized quite a great deal, vocally, and with expression. She's as fine as one can be after being dumped, and having the first love of her life appear out of nowhere after being dead for two years. "She'll worry. Then come out at night. He gave her something, did she tell you?" There may have been a panic attack, but Hope hasn't forgotten that he said he had a message to deliver. Her attention drifts from the large parcel toward the back of the church. "I didn't want to intrude, but I guess I can leave it on a desk or something."
Meaning not fine at all, of course. But…it's really not Ivan's place to force her to talk it out. This is neither the place, nor the time, and really, he is not the guy to act as her life. But then, she continues to go on and addresses one of the issues that he has been meaning to bring up. Automatically, his lips purse, and his expression shifts from concerned to darkly bothered. "I saw it. It was a summons. He wants to meet her, and unfortunately…she saw it too." Beat. "I need to find a way to convince her not to go. Some way to…forbid her without actually forbidding her."
"The Leadership conference is coming up soon. It's three weeks long." Which would get Faith out of the area for a while. "She already expressed interest in coming with me." Hope sighs, then shakes her head. "Go with her. She won't not go. Even if we were out of town, she'd find a way. He was our best friend, and she'll never understand that our friend is dead, and that there's a demon inside of him now." Her arms fold over her chest, and she peers at him. "Or lock her up. There's no way you'll keep her from him."
This strikes Ivan as a clear, and rather unpleasant, surprise. His eyes widen dramatically, and he turns to stare at her. "Three weeks?" He sounds horrified, completely blindsided at the thought of such a lengthy retreat. "I…are you two going to stay there the entire time? It's an overnight retreat?" Uncomfortable, he ends up shrugging his shoulders, casting his hands into his pockets. His frown darkens considerably. "…I wish I could, sometimes. Just lock her up. But…I suppose I'll have to. Go with her, it seems." Beat. "Are…would you mind, maybe? Telling me what happened that day…the history you two have with this vampire."
A twinge of pain comes over Hope's face, both physical and emotional. She slides the parcel over, then sits in the pew. A gestured motion is given to Ivan, as though telling him he can sit if he wants. "Three weeks. I told her it was only one." Shoulders lift up in a small shrug. "It is over night. It's… well to put it in terms you'll understand, it's like bible camp. With leadership and teamwork skills training. So like a business retreat with God."
Then she falls silent for a long time. She's generally mouthy about this sort of stuff, but with Tripp being /back/ it's become more difficult to discuss it coherently.
"What exactly do you want to know, Ivan?"
Ivan watches her with a wary sort of intensity, before canting his head downwards in a quick, almost imperceptible nod it is only then that he proceeds to take the seat offered beside her, stiff and almost awkwardly, as if unfamiliar with this. After all, he is. He is used to this particular Tyler being alot more volatile with him. Gingerly, his lips split into a wry smile at her expense. "Bible camp, mhmm? That's…cool. She should go with you. It'll be…good." He sounds hesitant, and not sincere in the slightest, but the attempt to be supportive is there. He deserves credit for that, doesn't he?
"I want to know what happened at the bowling alley. She wasn't…she wasn't right when she came home. She was…she didn't know if I was real." Beat. Uncomfortably, he swallows thickly. "And I need to know what he was to you two. I need to…prepare myself with knowledge - to know what he'll manipulate during the meeting."
"She wants to go," Hope replies evenly. "I'm not /forcing/ her to. In fact, I told her you wouldn't like it." So there, Fontane. Hope rolls her eyes at him, then sighs. No fighting. Not here. She wouldn't want to upset Mr. Hartigan, or God for that matter. Her hands clasp together in her lap, and she frowns. "Tripp was our best friend for years. He…" She clears her throat. "He was like a brother to her, I think. Which is why she kept calling him her brother." The frown deepens. "/I/ loved him. He loved /her/." At least so far as she can surmise due to conversations with her sister now. "He's supposed to be dead. It's not right, it really isn't. I watched them tear his throat out. I watched him bleed to death. I was with his parents when they buried him. He shouldn't be here, he really shouldn't."
Hope gulps for air a few times, looking pale and faint. "He was at the bowling alley. I saw him. I mean, I thought I saw him. Then I /saw/ him. She didn't remember, and he had a mustache, but it was him. He… he's not changed at all. It…" She starts to look a little sick, and she draws her feet up onto the pew bench so that she can rest her head on her knees. "I think he may have done a mind whammy thing on her, but I ran. I had to get out of there. It's why I texted you. I left her there but I had to. I broke my foot."
Ivan blinks just as evenly at her over-reaction, and with an arch of his brows he leans back in his pew, arms held up, open palm in a gesture of surrender. "I know she does," he pacifies her, his tone gentle and slightly bemused. "She wants to spend the time with you, Hope. She wants to share the experience that you feel so strongly about. Hell, I want her to spend the time with you. I know…you might think otherwise, but I don't want to steal her from you." Beat. "It's just…I'm going to miss her, is all. I haven't been away from her since…"
It's all he can do, to be utterly silent as she offers him the answers he was searching for. An attentive audience, calmly drinking in her knowledge. At least, until she starts looking worse for the wear. It's then, and only then, that he acts. Suddenly, Ivan forgets that she's antagonistic to him. He forgets that she can be cruel, and in his mind jealously hateful, and he just…acts. As he would with Faith. His hand reaches out, resting on her back in a faintly supportive, gentle gesture. "Hey…hey, it's okay. It's alright, okay? Just…just breath. Everything will be fine."
"No, it's not going to be alright. You don't understand, Ivan." Hope just keeps her head rested on her knees, thankful that Mr. Hartigan isn't here to see her looking so ill. He may be an up-and-coming priest, but he's still good looking. "For /years/, /YEARS/, we were inseparable from Tripp. He came on family vacations with us. He… and with her not fully stable… it just, this changes /everything/." It changes everything for her too. All things considered Tripp's death was the catalyst for her joining the Fellowship in the first place, and now? Now that he's 'alive', it's throwing her off.
"I'm supposed to be this poster girl. This paragon of good. This absolutely perfect follower, with no fear. I /left/ her there with him. With a vampire. Because I couldn't stand to see the body of someone I was absolutely in love with inhabited by a /demon/. How can I be a poster girl for them legitimately now?"
Ivan clenches his jaw tightly, watching her veiled expression closely and with much dedication. It's different to the looks he usually affords her. Riddled with clear, transparent concern and consideration. His hand strokes her back, trying to ease her into some semblance of comfort. When he speaks, he is firm and quite unrelenting in his words. "No, right now it's not alright. At all. But it will be. You just have…to give it time. It's going to be hard, near impossible. But, if you outlast this, then things will be alright again."
There is a pause, followed by a faint sigh. "You ask much too much from yourself, Hope. Perfection…how can you possible live up to such impossible expectations? Wasn't Jesus supposed to be the only perfect human?" Beat. "You're good. But above good and bad, you are human. And that's what's wonderful about you. You can't be expected to…turn off all of your human fallacies just because you're some poster girl."
There is no moving from the Tyler twin. Despite the comfort, she just keeps her head rested upon her knees. There is fear in her that if she moves, she'll be sick all over his designer shoes. "It will /never/ be alright, Ivan. Ever. It's unnatural for him to be… walking and talking. I was there when he was buried. I held his mother's hand. I spent two years crying over him, then as soon as I find love again — no matter how messed up that is right now; there he is." Pause. "I didn't want to be the poster girl, but I am. I'm the face of the Fellowship. Do you know what kind of danger that's going to put Faith in? And I just /left/ her there? Alone with a vampire? What kind of sister am I that I'd do that? You wouldn't leave your sisters alone with a vampire… and then the other night in the parking lot, there was this vampire pretending to be a student, and I sprayed him with my silver mace that I've been working on and he returned my cell phone, and I just don't get it."
Ivan can only watch her, the girl that is slowly unraveling, slowly coming apart at her perfect pink seams. And it's heartbreaking. It's terrifying, and as a result, he finds himself with the intense desire to help - to somehow ease the pain. After all…hers is a face that he is particularly susceptible and sympathetic for. Hers is a face that just prompts Ivan to be a hero. "…I know. I know it feels overwhelming, and impossible right now. I know you feel as though your world has been flipped upside down, and that there's not enough oxygen for you to take but…you need to slow down and breath. You did nothing wrong, Hope. You knew she wasn't in immediate danger…and if she was? You wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway. You were not wrong, and you are not a bad person or a bad sibling for getting yourself out of a situation where you're lost."
Despite the reassurance and the comforting, it would seem that Hope is a tad inconsolable. She's trying to be quiet about it though. "No, Ivan. No, you don't know. You can't. I /LOVED/ him for a good portion of my life. It's why…" She throws her hands out from her hugged knees in a sort of 'I give up' manner. "Faith getting catatonic like that? That was /my/ fault. I sent them away that night. He died, and that was my fault too. And to have him come back… no one will ever /know/." It's made her lose her faith is what it's done. "William Grant. That's what he said his name was. He didn't hurt me, and I don't /understand/."
"No, I can't. Your situation is particularly difficult, particularly drastic and tragic. But I do know what it's like to question everything. And I do know what it's like to be helpless, to feel as though everything is so…hopeless. So feel as though the end of the world is coming. Or at least your world. To…to hurt so much you feel as though you want to die." Ivan pauses in his dramatic little speech to look to her solemnly. "You can't blame yourself for what happened. You can't hold yourself accountable for what ended up happening. Unless you wished for her to get catatonic and personally sought to make it happen, then you are not to blame."
And now…the difficult bit. "William Grant…?" Beat. "Perhaps…perhaps they retain more of their humanity then we would assume. Most vampires weren't turned out of their own violation. Perhaps…there are those who are evil and those that aren't. Like people."
"Ivan, I sent her out that night to /die/." Of that, Hope is certain. "He kissed her, and I was so angry at the both of them that I just wanted to be alone. /I/ sent them out there. They would have been safe inside if I hadn't sent them away. Neither of them would have died, or gone catatonic, or wound up in a mental facility if it wasn't for me." Her words are still quiet, though now they sound more like they're choking back on a sob than being whispered. "It's likely my fault that vampire targeted her too."
"Demons don't have any humanity! They don't. They can't. It's impossible." Because that /too/ would skew her view on things, and she can't allow that to happen. "They /feed/ on us. I don't care what people say about the synthetic. They eat us like we're a freaking /cow/."
"No, Hope. You didn't. Unless you plotted with the vampire that killed Tripp, you are in no way responsible for what happened. It was a tragedy…a horrible, horrible mishap. An accident. Who's to say that if they were kept inside by you, that the vampire wouldn't have gone inside after the three of you and finished you all?" His hand stills on her back, growing tense momentarily. "By that logic…it's my fault she was raped. I should have woken up when she was leaving, or locked her in, or…or something." Beat. "You can't harbour all this..this guilt. You can't live blaming yourself for this incident, Hope, because it's not your fault and until you accept that, you're never going to have a future. Ever."
"But they're not demons, are they? They're vampires…a completely different brand of darkness. Humans can't turn into demons. Demons were never human. Weren't demons fallen angels? Anyway…you're likely right. Demons don't have any humanity. But…some vampires just might yet."
Hope's body tenses, and she turns her head with a look that says she wants to scream at him. Then she's back to hugging her knees and ignoring how close he is to her. "I don't have a future anyhow, but I'm sure you knew that." Since he's the one that told her in the first place. "You still don't get it though. This tragedy. This accident as you're calling it… Ivan, it's /why/ I'm with the Fellowship. But there he is. A vampire. Mocking me. Mocking my very existence. I loved him. I'll always love him. You can't not love your first love, and now that he's back? I don't know if he's trying to still be with Faith or not… but I can't, I can't let her fall prey to them again. I'll dye my hair back and go in her place if you give me the date. I owe her at least that much."
She sighs. Long and heavy, but it's a sigh. "They're demons. The bible teaches us that they're demons. They're soulless creatures sent to prey upon us. They can't have humanity. They can fake it, but they don't really have it."
Ivan quirks a brow, low and easy. "The Bible mentions vampires? Really now?" He sounds quite doubtful, and for the obvious reason. However, he'll leave it at that, before tentatively removing his hand from her back, and eventually wiping the hand on his pants. "I don't know the answers to your questions, Hope. I don't know how to deal. It's going to be difficult, but…all I can say is that it's not your fault, and to take it one step at a time. Listen, you don't have to…I don't want to fight with you. Anymore. Ever. So…if there's something I can do for you, just tell me, and I'll do my best."
"Corinthians, 10 21, 'You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons. You cannot partake of the table of the Lord and the table of demons.'," Hope quotes. First thing that springs to mind. "There are other passages. Acts 15 20…" Sighing she shakes her head. "It /is/ my fault. It's… my entire life is a lie. Bobby didn't want to marry me, but he asked anyhow. Tripp is supposed to be dead, but he's not. I'm pretty sure there's a vampire toying with me, and I'm supposed to be a poster girl, even though I'm a big scaredy cat." Shaking her head she looks over at him. "Keep her away from vampires. Lock her up if you have to. I don't care. Just keep her safe. She'll need someone if I die."
Ivan winces slightly at her words, clearly slightly disturbed. but instead on pointing out that the verse she just spouted is open to interpretation and completely contingent on the idea that vampires are demons, therefore not proving the fact, only perpetuating it, he lets the bible talk pass by. It's not important. Instead, he stares at her, green eyes narrowed speculatively. And, hesitantly, he reaches over to try and brush a lock of her newly blonded hair out of her face, and behind her ear. It's almost a gesture of affection. "Your entire life isn't a lie. You're just going through a crisis right now…and Bobby is just a douchebag. And you're not going to die. Don't say stupid things like that."
There are more sayings she could spout at him, but when he seems to let it go, she nods as though she's just won that particular argument. It seems silly, but the fact that she has some little thing to cling to, some belief, seems to calm her a little. The somewhat affectionate touch is a different matter, and she just sort of sends him a very confused look. "It's a lie, Ivan. I joined the Fellowship because Tripp /died/. Only he's not /dead/. He was walking, and talking, and putting mind-whammys on my sister, and he's going to hurt her." Even if that's not his intention, he will. "I am going to die. Don't you see? If a vampire can come up to me so easily on campus, they can get me anywhere. Even though my hair is different now, they'll use Faith to get to me. You /have/ to keep her safe! You have to!"
"I'm not going to let him hurt her." Ivan is fierce about this declaration. Normally, he'd cite the fact that the vampire will die if he tries anything, but he has a sinking suspicion that Tripp's second death wouldn't be taken very well by Hope, despite her vampire hatred. "I'm not going to let him touch her…she's mine, and I'm going to keep her safe or die trying." Pause. "No, Hope. You're not. You're too public a figure, the church and even non-supporters would be outraged if you would die. And…I can help you. I'll try. To protect you, as well. To keep you as safe as possible."
Though she doesn't like Ivan, for whatever her reasons, she trusts that he'll keep her twin safe. If he can keep her safe after she's gone? That's all she can ask for, really. Hope scrunches her shoulders inward. A minute shrug. "The church would care, but I doubt anyone else would. They're likely planning on killing me, but it's okay, Ivan. If they do? They'll just be proving everything the Fellowship says to be right. They'll be making themselves monsters in the eyes of the public, even more so than they already have. It will be good for the church." Definitely garner a lot more interest in them. "You'll have your hands full keeping Faith safe. Don't worry about me. God has His plans, and I'll either be safe, or I'll be used as an example."
"God doesn't want you to be a martyr. He can't." Ivan sighs, contrite, but at this moment, he realizes that reason and logic wont appeal. He also realizes that the woman is in serious need of support, of comfort, and of most importantly, an opportunity to think. Knowing he cannot really provide any of it, he makes his decision to leave. But not before leaning over towards the new blonde with the attempt to kiss her temple in a near fraternal manner before picking himself up onto his feet and stepping out of the pew. Apparently, the surprise factor is the name of the game. "I've got to get back to work. You know my number. Don't be afraid to use it if you need help with anything. Don't do anything reckless. Otherwise who's going to dump ice cream over my head?" And then he breaks out into an accappela version of Avril Lavigne's "Keep Holding On".
Or rather, he doesn't. But he does offer her the faintest of smiles as he steps away, sticking his hands into the pockets of his sports coat. "You going to be alright?"
A small miracle that he doesn't start to sing. Otherwise the parcel beside her would be up-ended on his head, and all that beautiful fruit would go to waste. Hope just stares at him. "Whatever God's plan is, I'm happy to be part of it. Even if it means I'm going to die. I accept it." She doesn't embrace it, but she accepts it for her past sins. The kiss totally throws her off though, and she just /stares/ at him. "What the—" A hand waves in his direction. Let him get back to work, whatever. "Honestly? No. No I'm not. But I can put on a damned good show for everyone that seems to be incessant in their need to ask me if I'm going to be alright." To prove it, she unfolds her legs, sitting in the pew like a perfect little lady. "I'm just peachy, see?" Bright smile, though her eyes really aren't behind it. "I got dumped for your sister," she says. "It was amicable though. I love him, but he's going through a really bad time with his father's death. Don't be too hard on him, okay? Even if you think he's a jerk, he needs friends too."
"No, he's just a fucktard that doesn't deserve you." Ivan doesn't mind the fact that he swore in church. He just stares at Hope without bothering to blink or hesitate. "Nothing justifies his actions. And if he ditched you for Scarlett, he's going to ditch Scarlett for the next pretty face that gives him half a second's worth of attention. You might be fine with it - but I'm not, and he doesn't deserve your love." And he pauses here, giving himself the opportunity to think the situation out. "I'll be calling to check up on you soon. Hey…don't let this get you too down."
Oddly, Hope reaches a hand out to his arm. "No, Ivan. He's hurting. I've been there, I know. He wants to correct something he can't, so he's compensating elsewhere. Even if things don't work out with me and Bobby, I don't begrudge him that. We all grieve in our own ways, right? This is how he's choosing to grieve." A sad little smile and then a shake of her head. "I'm not saying be his friend, but don't hate him for it. I've done worse in the past." There was an extremely dark period before she became part of the church, and it's not something she enjoys reliving. "I should go deliver this to Mr. Hartigan though. It'll rot if I don't." And possibly if she does. "I won't tell anyone you were being nice, if you promise not to tell anyone that I'm losing it." She's enough in her right mind to realize that not everything she's saying or doing sounds at all sane at the moment.
Ivan merely stares at the hand contacting him, and though he listens to her passively. "Then if you want what's best for him, tell him to stay away from my sister and away from me. Your judgement might be impaired by your feelings for him, and I'll agree not to actively seek him out, but I'll have no qualms against calling him out as the scum he is - and if provoked, taking action. You chose the correct word to use there. He's choosing to grieve like this - choosing to behave like a despicable douchebag." But he's done here. He's done talking about how messed up their lives are - he leaves the church.
