Washed Clean with the Blood (open)(casual)

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Hector sat in the back-most pew, staring at the crucifix before him reverently. Even in his line of work, man connected with a higher power and since Hector had never been sure what that higher power was, he reverted back to one of the childhood habits ingrained in him. Catholicism. Hector remembered being taught the rosary and could still recite it and he remembered having his first communion; grimacing at the stiff wafer and nearly gagging at the wine. However, Hector could not remember ever going to church or even going to confession. Not until he was older.

As far as he knew, his first confession was at age 19. After he killed an innocent woman by accident. It was the first time the mobster remembered feeling remorse.

Her name was Catherine Lopez.

She was 7.

He had stumbled his way to this very church in a panic and threw himself into a confessional. The priest was there the whole time and Hector just wept bitterly into his fisted hands. It was the only time he had ever cried. And the only time someone had been there to listen when he had picked himself up and pulled the sharps of himself together. The fragile snow-globe he had lived in, full of his ideals, had shattered when Catherine's body arched violently from the gunshot and hit the sidewalk with a sickening, muted sound.

Somewhere between Catherine and the church Hector had stopped to throw up in an alley. And sometime between weeping and leaving the church, Hector found enough trust in him to mutter a confession to the priest. That man whose name Hector never learned had happily swept up the broken glass and comforted the lost boy even though he had admitted to hurting someone so badly that they could die.

Hector in the present held a newspaper clipping. An obituary of the longterm priest of this particular church. The man who had made Hector believe in a glimmer of hope that he couldn't see before.

Hector folded his hands together over the shred of paper and knelt in the pew. He bowed his head so his forehead touched his thumbs and began to pray for the first time in too many years.

[maggiewritersblock]

It wasn't always that Bob would voluntarily go to help clean a church. However, the honors society required that he do a certain amount of hours of community service. Frankly, the thought of him doing what some hired person could easily do made Bob groan.

"Why don't you swing by my church, Robert? I'm sure they'd love it if you helped with some heavy lifting," Miss McHeard, the adviser, had told him.

Bob scoffed at the memory of that as he walked in to the church. His footsteps echoed on the stone floor and Bob had to admit that the setting was eerie. The only light came from candles, it was silent, and he couldn't see a single person there.

It wasn't until he heard a faint creak in a pew that he noticed there was someone else there. Bob felt his throat relax and it made him feel so good to regain his composure. For Bob, there wasn't a more terrible feeling the world then to give in to emotions.

"I hate to interrupt your prayers, sir, but can you tell me if there is anyone else here?"


[OOC: It was hard to tell from your post what exactly was going on, if Hector wasn't alone, I can change it, but I had to assume.]

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Hector ignored the footsteps and continued to pray and was planning on ignoring the person completely until they talked to him. Hector raised his head slowly and raised an eyebrow. He looked around him slowly and answered calmly, "Obviously I'm the only one. Sister Beatrice is in the back room if you need an officiate," Hector was polite in his answer but not interested.

Hector didn't know why a random teenaged boy was in the church in the middle of the day. He certainly didn't look spiritual, but neither did he. He wasn't spiritual usually so that wasn't that big of a deal.

[ooc: I was just writing from inspiration, I didn't give the surrounding scene much thought so you assumed right . Sorry for how short it is, my hand's still hurting so I can't type much]

[maggiewritersblock]

"Thank you, sir," Bob said and followed the man's direction.

However, when Bob reached said back room door, he noticed a note sticking in between the door and casing. In a curly script, the note read something along the lines of: Visiting Mrs. Marinos who is in the hospital. Will return within the hour.

Bob wasn't sure what to do. He'd already called for a cab to pick him up three hours from the time he'd arrived. Looking around, his heart felt as though it was being tied up and he felt drawn to pray as the older man in the back had been doing.

He hurriedly picked a pew near the middle of the church and knelt. The sanctuary was still dark, but as soon as he knelt, a bit of light came through the stained-glass window above the altar.

Bob didn't know a lot about praying. The only thing he could think to do was recite The Lord's Prayer. And he did in a low whisper that seemed to echo throughout the sanctuary.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

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Hector had finished with his prayers just in time to see the young man kneel in a pew about halfway down. There was something awkward in his movements and Hector suspected that he didn't pray much. Like the mafioso really. Surely it hadn't been as long for the boy as it had been for himself. The boy was only still that, a boy. A child. Undefined in the world and with clean hands.

Hector took a moment to gather himself up, to wipe away any residual emotions that may cling to his face. He stepped out of the church quietly. Hector made sure to dip his fingers into the holy water and cross himself on the way out, wanting to make sure that he did his first moment of prayer correctly. Outside the building, Hector pulled out a cigarette and lit up. He inhaled deeply and let the smoke stream from his nostrils. Richard's silly rules meant nothing to him.

[maggiewritersblock]

The thunk of of sanctuary doors closing triggered a trapped feeling in Bob's throat--the type one would feel if they were trapped in a coffin. However, Bob thought it was silly to have such a feeling in a large space like the church. Regardless he felt it. Everything inside his body told him to run.

So he did.

It was only when he reached the doors that he stopped--figuring that the older man was still waiting outside and would find Bob to be a hooligan of sorts if he was caught running like a mad man from the church. After all, it was only a church. That is what Bob scolded himself with as he took a deep breath. The deep breath didn't help though. Bob switched from scared as hell to enraged that he could show so much weakness. Still, he wanted out.

As he opened the door, he realized that he still hadn't come up with what he was going to say to the old man when he saw Bob walking out the door, breathing heavily and red-faced.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Hector savored the feel of the cigarette between his fingers and the smoke in his lungs. It was sharp, burning, and that was good. Hector reminded himself mildly to get a stiff drink at home later that evening. Catholic guilt had to be carefully managed with alcohol. Hector pulled at the cigarette again, the ash inching up the paper, until it was too long. He flicked it to the ground and snubbed with his toe, his hands returning to his pockets to rest casually against the wall.

Just as Hector was fully calm, his stone mask slipping back in place, the door beside him burst open and the young man emerged, red-faced, panting. Hector recognized panic almost imediately having faced it many times. Pushing off the wall, Hector approached the kid.

"Are you alright?" Hector didn't really care about his well-being, but he wasn't a mob boss yet. He was still standing on God's steps, in full view of the world. What kind of Catholic would he be if he just left the boy standing there?

[maggiewritersblock]

Bob composed himself immediately. "Of course." Then, he noticed the scent of a really nice smelling cigarette, probably recently extinguished by the old man. It prompted him to pull his own pack out of his pocket and light up.

The feeling in his throat started to fade away, and although he was still breathing heavily, he felt a lot better. That is, until he realized that he was breaking the law. Bob had always known cigarettes were outlawed in public places, but he occasionally smoked anyway, just to get a rise out of his father. It never worked though. His father would just help him cover it up or even buy him some expensive cologne as a bribe and to possibly cover up the smell of cigarettes.

It pissed Bob off that his father was such a coward. He was scared of Bob that didn't respect him. His weak old man would have to earn it.

Just about anyone was a more admirable person than his father. In fact, Bob bet that he respected the man in front of him, that he just met, more than his father. He could tell just by looking at him that there was a dignified air to him. Whether this man was admirable or not was indefinite, but he surely wasn't as cowardly as his father.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

DEAR MODS/ADMINS, PLEASE ARCHIVE THIS THREAD 'CAUSE MAGGIE AND I KEEP SCREWING IT UP