Name: Simon Peg
Simon could’ve been called handsome in his younger years. Even now, in his older days he was still quite a sight to behold. Waving Brown hair, and bright blue eyes. A few wrinkles in his face, giving him the look of someone who could be a loving uncle.
Oh yes, woman would surely flock to him, if he wasnt a man of the cloth. The only one he would ever give attention to would be God.
During his sermons Simon wears his black robe. “Off duty” he’s always seen wearing a black shirt with black pants. Always accompanied by his priest’ collar.
As a priest he obviously has no weapons.
Priest of a local church.
Rid the city of the sin investing it. One sinner at a time.
Difficult to describe. Simon has a tumor growing in his head, making him highly unpredicatble. Violent outbursts have becoming more frequent as he gets older. He is also starting to sometimes forget where he is, and can be found spacing out. When he’s lucid, he’s a kind man to be around. That is, as long as you’re human.
Old McDonald had a farm
Simon originated from a small town. His father was the priest of the local church, and was highly devoted to his believes. Believes he would instill in his children one way or another. His mother was your average housewife. Knew when not to speak, and always made sure the house was neat and tidy. He also had a younger sister, only a year younger than him. Over the years she grew very quiet, only speaking when spoken to and even then the answers where short.
Simon liked his live in the town, there was always something to do. Be it working on the land for a pretty penny, or just lounging at the nearby River with his friends. No life was definitely good for Simon.
This all changed when the farmer with the largest patch of land decided to buy slaves to work on the land. Hybrids. They where cheaper than the boys he’d have to pay and even got the work done faster. They where housed in a farm, now rebuild as a crammed bunkhouse. Simon had never seen hybrids before, and at first he was dazzled by all the weird things he’d see. Tails, claws even wings! Just like the angels in the stories!
But his dad told him, and everybody else in town, that this was the work of the devil. These people were to be removed from the land, lest they infect everybody with the sin they carried. But there were only a few people that listened, mostly the eldarly. And the hybrids where to stay.
This was when his father started to get violent. He’d often come home from a sermon in a angry mood. One mistake, and he’d start the beatings. Never the face though, never spots that the other townsfolk could see.
His mother and sister got the most of it. And for years this went on. By now Simon was 17 and was starting to “bloom”. He was confused, and tried to talk about it with his father. He told him it was the work of the devil, and that he must supress these unclean thoughts.
This was also around the time that his friends where sneaking off to the hybrid’ bunkhouse. There they would give in to these unclean thoughts. Simon only went with them once, but upon seeing what his friends where doing he quickly turned away and left. His friendship started to fade as time passed on. And as time passed on, Simon also began to see that his father must’ve been right. These people where evil, these things where sin incarnate. And they where spreading their sin already, his former friends clear examples.
More years passed, and Simon grew more and more devout. Much to his father’s approval. The beatings never stopped. But Simon took them as a sign from god, these beating where his punishment for the unclean thoughts he had.
And one day, during a sermon, his father just keeled over. Autopsy would explain that it was a heartattack that finally got him. For long Simon didnt quite know what he should feel. It wasnt until a few days later, when he found his mother and sister humming a happy tune in the kitchen, that he understood what had happened. They wished for this to happen, they wanted his father to die so they must’ve made a deal with the devil. His mother, wishing her own husband dead. He once again blamed the hybrids for this, and he moved out of the house into the church saying he wanted nothing to do with his so called family anymore.
And for a bout 5 years, he took over the sermons of his father. Until one day he received a letter, asking for his assitance in the city. Simon, now 22, saw this as a great oppertunity to spread the word of God even further. And if they had to ask for his help, surely it would be needed.
So Simon took off, saying his fond farewells to all of those that came to the church regularly. And with that Simon was off to the big city.
And so God said to him…
And so our only 22 year Young priest came to the city. At First he was amazed at what he saw, there was so much to see he felt like he needed a extra pair of eyes. But he also saw that his help was indeed neede. Sin and impurity was on every corner, and he knew that a difficult task lay ahead of him.
30 years later, Simon had done something no priest in the church had ever managed to do so far. Simon made people come to the church again. Some would say it was because of his good looks, others said it was because his sermons were so vibrant and lively. No matter what it was, Simon made the church go into new years of prosperity and was loved because of it.
But not all was well with Simon. Little did he know but on the first day he stepped foot into the city, a tumor had started to grow in his head. And over the 30 years he worked for the church it had blossomed to quite the size.
As Simon grew older, headaches would often set in. Which he would blame on the bad air quality of the city, often joking that his country life lungs werent made for this. Around 48 he also began to forget things, even in the middle of a sermon. He’d read a passage, and would suddenly stop and a blank stare would cover his eyes for just a second or so. When he finally snapped out of it, he would sometimes reread some of the passages he’d already passed. People werent too alarmed by all this, he was getting older, and he put so much energy in his sermons, he was bound to run out of steam one day.
It wasnt until he was 52 that his first violent outburst was shown. It was during a regular sermon, where so far nothing had gone wrong. That was when Simon saw it. It was like in the movies he’d seen. Where a shaft of light broke through the tinted glass onto a person of great importance. But unlike the movie, this beam of light didnt shine on a person of importance. Instead it shone down the aisle, between the benches, onto a tail. A tail gently wagging in the light. A tail. In his church.
Simon stopped talking , and for what seemed like hours he just stared at the tail. People where muttering, but werent alarmed by it. Over the years this had become normal behavior for Simon. It wasnt until Simon jumped off from the stage, waving the bible in his hand, and marching down the aisle. That people stood up to see what was happening.
Simon stood infront of the ownder of the tail. A girl, not much older than 17, who was curled up against her presumed ownder. She was looking around in panic, her black sin invested eyes clearly looking for a exit. A red blur started to take away his vision, as Simon yelled out all the profanities and curses he could think of. Banishing the person who brought this demon into his church. His headache had come back with a vengeance, and he had to cancel the sermon. Not that anyone would still be interested in that, after seeing the priest fall so far from his role.
When his headache wouldnt go away, he decided to take a walk. Perhaps this would clear his head a little. But it didnt, instead it only got worse and worse. Until at one point he had to sit down on the ground in one of the alleys. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep, and when he opened his eyes he came to the startling conclusion that night was already falling over the city. Wasnt it still in the afternoon when he left for a walk?
Simon tried to get up, but the headache was preventing him from any physical strains. This had to be the work of the devil. He was cleaning the sin of this town, and the devil wouldnt have that. So he would just kill him. That was when Simon saw movement in the corner of his eye, further down the alley.
A small boy, ruffled greasy blond hair and worn cloths, was rummaging through the garbage cans for food. But that wasnt what caught Simon’s attention the most, no it were the boy’ ears. Large ears, very large with hair growing on the tips. Bat ears someone could say.
The boy was a hybrid.
Immediately the headache became even worse and Simon curled up in a ball, head between his legs. He prayed to god to make the headache go away. Small droplets of blood where now falling on the dirty ground. Simon closed his eyes and started praying.
When Simon opened his eyes again, he found himself standing, and facing the little boy. He blinked, and found himself already halfway across the alley. The boy still hadnt seen him, and was too busy with the trashcans. Simon blinked again and now found himself directly behind the boy, his shadow looming over him. Simon blinked for a last time, and time resumed it’s normal course.
Somehow Simon found himself hovering over the boy, who he had pressed against the ground, left hand over his throat. The boy was squirming, but was no match for Simon’ strength. He yelled, screamed and cried, but the city was overwhelming his cries for help.
The red blur returned, and Simon felt a inner warmth. He felt a familiar feeling in his right hand, and found he was holding his iron cross tightly. It felt as i fit was emmiting heat. Simon raised the cross above his head, into the sky. And brought it down fast and hard, onto the boy’ face, shattering his cheekbone.
The boy screamed and let out a howl that send a shiver down his spine. But he knew it was just the devils trickery. So he raised the cross again and brought it down a second time.
He realized that the headaches werent the devils work.
They where a sign from God!
He was God’s messenger, and it was his task to spread the word!
He was destined to clear this city of sin!
He was judgement.
By the time Simon was done, there wasnt much left of the boy’ face. Bloodstains all over his cloths and dripping from his hands. But Simon felt good, really good. The headache had gone away, and he hadnt felt this great since his years in his old town. Night had now already fallen, as Simon made his way home. Exhilarated that he had been chosen by God to act as his messenger. Finally all his years of praying had paid off.
NOX wrote:Captain's Log - 9/7/2009
Pandora's box was not filled with candy.
Bolts wrote:I'd hate to see what he does to a protestant hybrid....
D:MQuinny1234 wrote:NO, No, no, noooo....Damnit, I can't lie.
...That's it, I'm going out for dinner tonight. TO THE *checks RP* er...THE CAFE.
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