wiztrict (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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henhursthall2021-04-04 12:33 pm
wiztrict) wrote in henhursthall2021-04-04 12:33 pm
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This rebuttal is difficult to dispute. Animagi are relatively uncommon. So the number that can turn into fowls and would be willing to go along with something like this has to be absolutely miniscule. Criswell's eyes close for a moment and he nods in glum acknowledgment.
"...You have a point."
When he opens them again, his gaze drops back to his own restless hands. He doesn't need to look at the statue. He's seen more than enough of it. "It's nothing a first year couldn't manage," he agrees, pausing only briefly before he adds, "Though, I can't imagine why anyone would bother?"
"...You have a point."
When he opens them again, his gaze drops back to his own restless hands. He doesn't need to look at the statue. He's seen more than enough of it. "It's nothing a first year couldn't manage," he agrees, pausing only briefly before he adds, "Though, I can't imagine why anyone would bother?"
"Boredom, someone dared them to, they were drunk and thought it sounded funny," Corrie says promptly - and a little too loudly: someone turns to shush her. She rolls her eyes and drops her voice again, leaning forward to compensate. "Psychology experiment about how quickly people accept whatever explanation they're given. Or about following instructions even if the person ordering you's an animal."
She shrugs. People do loads of things for loads of reasons. It's less clear to her why anyone's going along with it. "Maybe they're mind-controlling anyone who goes in to confess," she adds off-handedly.
She shrugs. People do loads of things for loads of reasons. It's less clear to her why anyone's going along with it. "Maybe they're mind-controlling anyone who goes in to confess," she adds off-handedly.
"What? Me?" Hugo looks up at Aster, completely unprepared to be asked this question. Although he shouldn't have been. He is in line after all. It's just... "Well," Hugo lowers his voice and scans for any chickens that might be eavesdropping, "I was going to make something up, if I'm being honest. Maybe... coveting thy neighbor's wifi?"
Another careful glance for any nearby chickens. "What about you?"
Another careful glance for any nearby chickens. "What about you?"
THE CHURCH: Lorcan the Researcher & Hugo the Converting
hugogogadget
2021-04-09 07:35 am (UTC)(link)
"It is interesting," Hugo nods, taking in the scene. The chickens, the service, the pomp and the rituals.
"It almost makes me sort of believe in a God, if that makes any sense."
"It almost makes me sort of believe in a God, if that makes any sense."
"I think they're mostly just here for the photo op," Hugo grumbles back. "They only want a picture with the crying statue. They don't want to actually engage with the theology or the day's message."
Mind you, Hugo is a hypocrite. He's been mostly concerned with deciphering Father Peck's sex appeal, not the meaning of his sermon. And he's certainly a bit annoyed that he hasn't yet gotten a good selfie with ol' waterworks Gallus.
Mind you, Hugo is a hypocrite. He's been mostly concerned with deciphering Father Peck's sex appeal, not the meaning of his sermon. And he's certainly a bit annoyed that he hasn't yet gotten a good selfie with ol' waterworks Gallus.
Love the little flavor text about Corrie beating Hugo to the elevator lol
Corrie rolls her eyes. Don't get her started on the weeping statue. Still... it's always nice to have someone else be just as grumpy as you are.
"Can you understand the day's message?" she asks. "Like, the different-from-Easter bits? I mean, the sermon is," she juts her chin at the pulpit, at the creepy-wrought-iron rooster addressing the crowd. No explanation needed. "And the pamphlet is what it is. So I've mostly checked out the pictures."
"Can you understand the day's message?" she asks. "Like, the different-from-Easter bits? I mean, the sermon is," she juts her chin at the pulpit, at the creepy-wrought-iron rooster addressing the crowd. No explanation needed. "And the pamphlet is what it is. So I've mostly checked out the pictures."
While Corrie rolls her eyes at the irritated parishioner, Criswell winces and slumps down in the pew. Perhaps they should take this outside. Before he can make this suggestion, however, the girl continues in a whisper. He glances briefly in the direction of the confessionals, then back at her, his unease becoming even more obvious.
"...That...can't be true."
Right?
"...That...can't be true."
Right?
Character Name: Corrie Pye
Confession: She eats eggs with ketchup or maple syrup, sometimes both. She's never told her family about any relationship she's had. She eats bacon specifically to piss off her sister. She snogged someone famous for the photo op.
Honesty: 1. Chickens ain't hearing none of her business, she is 100% confessing to things other people do.
Fear of (Chicken) God: 2
Hard Boiled Eggs: Put eggs on burner. Leave them there until she remembers they exist.
DEVIL'ed Eggs: Gross, no. Who knows how long it's been there?
Privacy: Chaos
Confession: She eats eggs with ketchup or maple syrup, sometimes both. She's never told her family about any relationship she's had. She eats bacon specifically to piss off her sister. She snogged someone famous for the photo op.
Honesty: 1. Chickens ain't hearing none of her business, she is 100% confessing to things other people do.
Fear of (Chicken) God: 2
Hard Boiled Eggs: Put eggs on burner. Leave them there until she remembers they exist.
DEVIL'ed Eggs: Gross, no. Who knows how long it's been there?
Privacy: Chaos
Edited 2021-04-10 04:29 (UTC)
Too late, Corrie realizes her mistake: mind-control is way too intense a suggestion for Criswell Trelawney. This should have been obvious.
"It's not," she says -- too fast this time. "I'm sure. Pointless anyway, since the ones going in are gonna be the ones that believe anyway, right?"
That's not enough. "I'll prove it," she adds. "I'll go in there myself once Peck's done."
"It's not," she says -- too fast this time. "I'm sure. Pointless anyway, since the ones going in are gonna be the ones that believe anyway, right?"
That's not enough. "I'll prove it," she adds. "I'll go in there myself once Peck's done."
This prompts Criswell to straighten again and he comes perilously close to responding at normal volume, only catching himself at the last moment. He doesn't quite stop himself from making a small grab for her wrist, though. "I'm sure you're right," he whispers back, "But. Just in case. Maybe...don't. Do that."
This was clearly not as reassuring as she'd hoped it would be. The problem is, now she's said it she kinda... actually wants to do it. Not just to show him it's fine, but to see what it's like and what she can get away with. Curse her flippant mouth for giving her brain ideas.
"It'll be fine!" she says, patting his hand with her spare one. (Why would it be fine? Think of something that isn't just dismissive or telling him to calm down, that's never worked with anyone ever.) "My brother always says no one could ever make me do anything so I doubt they'd have any easier a time. And even if they did, it'd be really easy to tell I was under control. I'm the perfect person to test it!"
"It'll be fine!" she says, patting his hand with her spare one. (Why would it be fine? Think of something that isn't just dismissive or telling him to calm down, that's never worked with anyone ever.) "My brother always says no one could ever make me do anything so I doubt they'd have any easier a time. And even if they did, it'd be really easy to tell I was under control. I'm the perfect person to test it!"
In the interest of complete honesty -- this is a confessional after all -- Sister Dulcinea doesn't hear all of young Corrie's sins. She's preoccupied with this sweetsavory eggs, ketchup, and maple syrup combination. Her mind wanders to Dennys and whether or not this Eggster service will end in time for her to get across town and get a booth before the senior citizen rush around 3:30. By the time Sister Dulcinea is paying attention again, Corrie's confession is over. She writes down a completely arbitrary 6 Hen Mary's and passes the paper to Corrie. Now move it along, someone has a date with some eggs.
Edited (Corrie rolled so good. So innocent!!) 2021-04-12 04:10 (UTC)
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