Grace and Glory (open)|INACTIVE

[romeo]

As the sound of thudding rain pressed against the church shingles, a slightly drenched Romeo enters the structure in the midst of night. Romeo truly appreciated the solace of silence and would often come pay his respects in the late of night where he'd be free from the countless stares and whispering remarks....

He knew what he was, but evidently everyone has a right to faith and religion, at least that was Romeo's belief. As Romeo knelt to the alter and began his prayers for salvation he secretly longed for this never ending hole in his heart to close, why did he feel so empty?....he had it all yet to no avail church remained his one truth....As the moons light pierced the stain glass window Romeo longed to meet a new face and learn something new about this complexity people call life, he sought an explanation to his purpose...to his own salvation.

When the dawn breaks Romeo will be the confident charming man many know him to be yet as of now he could take a few minutes to ease his soul, church to him was a personal time for him alone and he'd hate for anyone to see his weakened demeanor...he was second captain to the Gods of Verona after all, Benvolio would most likely die of shame should he learn such matters plaugued his cousin...Romeo smirked as he imagined such notion

[philosopher]

Not a case in weeks. Had the city suddenly lost its glaze which had attracted Holmes in the first place?

Holmes was in great trouble; indeed, he had become agitated and craved stimulation like a starved chest rasping for air. Yes, he was turning it over in his mind, but not just in the way he had supposed. Only one thought came to him, but that thought filled his whole mind; he must get away from the heart of it - away at once from all the people and their boring common problems, from the tedium with the evil eye, who wanted to take Holmes and kill him slowly, that have the pleasure of seeing him die. But he would not tell Watson, for it would only grieve him, and he would talk and talk and talk and Holmes wanted no talking. He only wanted to be alone for a while, out into the open fields. But the nice, dead church did the job fine.

He stole away in a cavity space between two benches when the night was sweet and fresh - who knew how long he had been there since, but just looking at the instrument he had used to inject into his body at his side, he could not even remember putting it down. Holmes pressed a hand to each temple to constrain his mind, there was his leather case half-hidden under his coat he had removed and left carelessly untidy on the stone-tile floor. Sleeves bunched to his elbows, and a petty pain in the midpoint of his arm he hadn't cared to notice. Leaning back his head and cloudy tranquil falling on him, he thought. His work, he felt that he could do it if there was just a spark. Something alive. It was work needing initiative and creative thought, work suitable to his talent and experience. At times he even wished for the villain Moriarty to come and cause some trouble just to save him from having to escape and pump himself with the first substance he could fish out of his chest of drawers. A foolish, childish game it was, and probably sometimes therefore more in his line than solid work.

The grand doors opened, making a long dragging clank which startled Holmes and rushed him with sudden life. His head threw itself up, and he crouched immediately so he might hide between the thick wooden seatings.

'Oh bandicoots,' How he wished he could have some state of urgency, but his co-ordination seemed so slipshot. The hour could have been to blame, but that was just was he wanted to believe. The drugs were rendering him sloppy as he groped for the syringe and buried it beneath his coat, ploughing them into the ground with two hands like he were trying to contain some lively beast. Holmes then broke away and suddenly stood, idle and still having lost completely the purpose that he had been trying to hide himself. Half-sensible, he quietly watched unconscious to gent who was kneeling at the altar. Just a boy, he realised. Not some red-eyed creature come to drag him to hell for curing his boredom in the Lord's house, just a boy.

Holme's thin and dried lips half-grinned as he leant back on the pew, just a row or so behind the gent, and let his head droop, eyes fixed ahead. He had taken the charlie like a sponge, and the high hadn't gone yet. The bundled tools of abuse safe beneath his rumples coat, Holmes looked on with dark, injured eyes that were at the moment a little speculative, touched with a dispassionate curiosity.

'Past your bed time, isn't it lad?' He said at last with a smothered sigh, head lolling slowly.

[romeo]

As Romeo was lost in his prayers, his sins called out to him in the pits of his uneased soul, why was he in such a state? one may ask...the answer was simple Rose, Rose was to Romeo what necter was to a bee, he was utterly fascinated by her and longed to be at her side in secret, yet the truth remains his world was not fit for someone of her stature. Time and again those around him pressured him to forget her, their intent was indeed noble yet could one ever surpass Rose and her charm? was there any hope for this lost soul?....

Romeo was not one to show his true nature he was very good at masking that which was not meant to be known, yet for the last few months his infatuation with Rose continued to grow and soon Romeo was faced with his current state, surprisingly even his father began to question such attitudes...the solace of the church was all he had as a means to comfort his thoughts. Reaching into his coat he pulled a crisp white envelope with a gold seal stamp pressed firmly upon the edges the signature was of noble origin Romeo paused as he glanced at the object...(pause....thump) Romeo glanced about to pursue the echo as he turned over his shoulder he pondered "who could be here at such hour!?" scanning the benches he saw nothing but oak wood benches staring in silence..."(soft laughter)...you really need to stop the caffeine Romeo" he uttered to himself with a shade of embarrassment....as he returned to his thoughts a few seconds later a classy British accent invaded his ears 'Past your bed time, isn't it lad?'...Romeo turned to follow the voice over his shoulder?....he gazed at a well dressed man who had a unique presence about him...Romeo let out a smirk as he offered the man a smoke and said "No rest for the weary my friend....aren't you suppost to be home with a lucky little lady at this hour?...Oh I GET IT she kicked you out did she?....here (offers the pack of smokes) you need this more then I do (laughter)...sheez I so need to quit he uttered" as he glanced at the stain glass portrait he smoothly lit his smoke as he poke with a playful tone "forgive us father...but we need our cancer sticks tonight"...."Romeo at ye service" he said in his best British impersonation ...he was pretty talented at such things

[philosopher]

Doubtless the two interlocutors, the boy and the detective, had drawn nearer to the door of communication; for their voices, which rose more and more, had now become quite distinct. In the holy house, between two strangers, a discussion of quite comradely was evidently going on. To seize the meaning of it was not possible; and yet through the large doors, the upper panels of which were of glass, he thought he could hear crackling fragments; and from time to time such words distinctly reached Holme's ear as dividend. A high, a high vague still, was slowly taking possession of Holmes; releasing and grasping. Releasing and grasping. Like a snake playing with its' food. He remained motionless leaning against the pew - well, as motionless he could, in suspense and drawing heavy breath. In and out, slowly.

Here Holmes dropped his eyes; and for some minutes nothing was heard in the expanse, except the confused words of the boy, and incomprehensible exclamations, until suddenly, Holmes laughed. Not a gentle chuckle, but the laugh of a maniac. Hooting and hollering. Stamping his feet so violently the floor could have shook, throwing his head back and forth and clutching his sides. The furious roaring rang out, and bounced off even the bloody bells above.

He struggled to compose himself immediately, letting roughly a minute pass before the mad laughter ceased. And, at last having bowed, he withdrew and stepped into the aisle, slowly clapping his hands as he made his way toward the boy. So great was the astonishment of calming himself quite suddenly after a bout of what looked like insanity, heretofore so peaceful.

'Ooohhh, my. You're funny, I like you already.' Overcome with stupor, he could not stand long and dropped into the front row bench, retaining some presence of mind at least. He flung his arms up in the air, pale as death yet still grinning like a bushel basketful of possum heads, 'But Sherlock Holmes kicks himself out! A woman, bah. They breathe chaos, friend - and who needs that? Its what I am, the oncoming storm!'

If only Irene could hear him now. She would have slapped him sober. Holmes did not deign to defend himself from the cigarettes being offered him. He straightened himself up, and with a sloppy gesture pulled a rod from the packet. He really shouldn't have, but nothing suddenly awakened within him that spoke of the peril of smoking right after shooting. It nonetheless attributed to the fact that he was going to be a very sick man come tommorow morning.

His voice was muffled as he at the same time deigned to keep the cigarette between his lips, speaking in a tone of idiotic obstinacy just after he lit by flicking his thumb over his lighter. 'Mmhmm, actually I take pleasure knowing one day they'll kill me.'

Stubbornly adhering to attitude, he drew away the first drag and blew a thin, white fog into the air. An unspeakable expression of pleasure and relaxation contracting his features, and speaking in a scarcely intelligible voice, 'Ah, bliss.'

[tuna]

Juliet had been sitting in the confessional box when Romeo and Sherlock entered. The appearance of anyone at this hour startled her. She realized that her ivory heeled shoes peeked out from underneath the curtain and, scared, she pulled her legs up against her chest. Trying to make as little noise as humanely possible. She had come here to be alone. It was the only place she was allowed to go alone, and she relished the opportunity. She had nothing to confess tonight, and no one to confess to. But it was nice to just sit here. She listened to the rain outside, hoping that maybe the church's new inhabitants were here only for that reason and hadn't actually come to confess anything. She also hoped they would be leaving soon.

She tried quietly to wrap her cashmere scarf around her face so that if anyone did discover her, they wouldn't know her face. She was always paranoid someone would recognize her and try to kidnap her for her parents money. What she always failed to remember is that she hardly left the house, so few knew her face. She was in very little danger, in fact, but her parents had always made her feel like she was. Thats why they took away her freedom.

She sighed softly, loudly. And then covered her mouth. She hoped they wouldn't notice. She began to shake softly, her fear rising within her. "Amy is probably a block away at the pub by now," she thought. Juliet had sent her away while she was here, under the pretense that she wanted to speak to God alone. She wished she hadn't sent her away now.

[romeo]

Romeo was truly astonished at Sherlocks bellowing, as loud as it was it was a welcome feeling...as the echos of laughter resonated Romeo couldn't help but join in. It was an odd phenomena seeing as the two just met but all the same this moment was to be the start of a well founded friendship, caught in the laughter Romeo tried to calm himself before he turned beat red. It would prove rather embarrassing if anybody from his questionable circle were to enter but he was safe seeing as he was the god fearing one of the group (but that was his little secret)

" Sherlock what are your thoughts on faith?...on salvation? could one plagued in shadows find redemption in the light?"

Romeo felt a sense of comfort confiding in this strange doped up individual maybe this was what he sought...to openly confide in that which would not judge his actions....in that which would embrace his qualms without preconceived notion to his nature. Romeo put out his cigarette as he waked towards the marble angel statue placed behind an oak wood altar....as he knelt before the gleam of softly lit candles...Romeo recited softly

"Thou who hear the call of the prodigal son...I beg thee to ease the sorrow that fills my soul....please father forgive my imperfections and reveal a sign...for my faith grows dim and my sorrows....(pauses in silence a few seconds) and continues to pray in silence

"forgive me sherlock...I must seek confession at this hour...(hands his number to the man)....call me for a drink ok?"

entering the wrong side of the confessional booth Romeo takes a seat expecting to see father Lawrence...you see Romeo and father Lawrence shared an inside joke...seeing as Romeo would always contradict rather then confess...he would sit on the priest side and lawrence would listen on the confessing side...seeing as Romeo was the only one to visit at this hour it became their tradition to do this every second evening he'd visit

sitting he was about to speak until he was brought to a stop by a soft tone "father?" she called out"

Romeo glanced at the crack of the velvet curtain....to see an angelic figure sitting gracefully...she was truely a work of art....

"OH sh...I yes child....forgive my tardiness at this hour....what brings you at such hour?....(he was pretty good at impersonating)

[tuna]

Juliet had been frightened when she heard someone move the curtain on the other side. But the voices outside had quieted down considerably, and her heart hoped it was just Father Lawrence. She clutched at her scarf and meekly asked, "Father?" She was startled by 'his' response. It had been a while since she had spoken with him, and the fact that his voice was a bit different than she had remembered didn't alarm her.

Juliet wasn't sure how to answer his question, but began her speech halted and slow, "Father. I am sorry for coming so late. But you know my parents won't let me be anywhere else alone." She giggled softly, which broke her tension a little bit. "Father, I need advice."

She fidgeted with her hands for a moment before continuing, slowly again, "Father, my parents are holding a ball to try and marry me off to a Count. But I don't want to marry him. He seems like a nice enough man, and I don't want to disappoint my parents... But I cannot marry him."

She tried to look at Father Lawerence through the screen, but it was too thick and ornate to see anything properly. But he could see her eyes pleading with him to help her.

[romeo]

"Father, my parents are holding a ball to try and marry me off to a Count. But I don't want to marry him. He seems like a nice enough man, and I don't want to disappoint my parents... But I cannot marry him."

Raising an eyebrow Romeo smirked as he pulled out his white envelope...(his invite to the ball)...."a yes I've heard tales of such ball...was it not the capalait house?....it's important to honor parents BUT one was given a heart to choose, I suggest you look for a man who wears a black mask with silver lining....for such a man was sent by the lord!...(Romeo utters...forgive me father) and child...."a smile tis a curve that straightens out alot of things....smiles should suit you well...amen"

slamming his back to the wall he was sweating a tad....I'm so going to hell for this! he whispered...he knew it was wrong but he lit a cigarette in the booth to ease his stress...she had quite the effect on Romeo

[tuna]

Juliet was surprised by his response. "A man in a silver lined black mask, father?" she asked softly, confused. And then she nodded. Father Lawerence knew her well enough to know who was best for her. She trusted him implicitly. She nodded quickly, crossing herself, "Thank you, Father. I should go. Goodnight."

She rose from her seat and moved aside the curtain, wrapping herself up in her shaw once more. As she left, she noticed Detective Holmes, her eyes meeting his for a second and widening in recognition. But she didn't say anything, it was late and she needed to get home. She reached the large door and pulled it open as much as her tiny frame would allow her to. She looked back for a second. Quietly repeating to herself, "A man in a silver lined black mask." Then she disappeared out into the night, and presumably was wisked away by her attendants. Back to Capulet Manor.

[romeo]

As Romeo watched the woman wrap her shawl about her shoulders, he froze as to what he could say he wanted to speak yet his words could not describe his thoughts, he was truly star struck as his gaze followed her through the velvet curtain opening he realized she was leaving...as guards swamped her at the entrance her glistening image vanished into an ocean of bodies ....just who was she? she was not one of his crew and yet Romeo was intouch with about all NYC's upper east quarter...was she new in town?....she did mention she was a Capulet....yet how is it she avoided his notice, surely he would have noticed such a face?

He just had to find out more, racing outside to the chapel the ever high Sherlock was now dazed on the benches, taking his coat off he wrapped it around Sherlock as he slept "sleep well friend...wish me luck" smirking Romeo borrowed some white roses from the alter as he slipped coins in the donation box he said "forgive me father...but I need these tonight"....racing out to his muscle car he followed the limo to a large brass gate....climing the fence he tore his blazer on the sharp points

"!@#$ that was my faveroite blazer!....where's Mercutio when you need him..." as he made his way to the beautiful garden he placed the roses on the deck by the pool....and threw a pebble at the window with the light on.......hearing dogs bark Romeo ran for his car! (fast!!)