milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Hmm? Oh, these?" Faith touches the earrings, shrugging. "They were a gift, to ward off vampires and demons - I hunt them, in my world. But if you're asking if I'm a believer...let's just say, after spending a lot of time here, it's hard to be a cynic. Why?"

"Oh. I see." Vampires and demons ... he'll have to ask her for some hints once he gets back on his way to Uberwald. The notes he took at the seminary see to have limited real-world applicability sometimes.

"Well ... I've been reading." He indicates his Bible. "But, ah, some of the terminology isn't explained, and while I could always, ah, determine it from context, I am given to understand that there are ... living sources who frequent this establishment."

Pause.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. The Quite Reverend Mightily Oats at your service."

"Ah. Yeah, we've got a few angels running around...also Jesus and Lucifer."

Faith holds out a hand. "Faith Lehane. Security. Charmed. Anything I might be able to explain? My mother was Christian, once, and some of it stayed with me."

See starstruck Oats.

"Jesus and ... and Lucifer I think I've met, actually. He was, ah, very pleasant." This appears to worry him slightly.

He takes Faith's hand in his own slightly damp one. Quite a grip she has. "Well, Miss Lehane, that would be very helpful. If it, ah, isn't too much trouble."

"Jesus is a talking lion," Faith supplies. "And it's no trouble."

Oats blinks, and proceeds to flip through his Bible.

"I don't believe I ever came across that reference," he says a touch anxiously. "Perhaps it was lost in translation?"

"No, I don't think he's always like that. I think it's more a thing where he can be...whatever he wants? And chooses to look that way? I don't know. I just know, I met a talking lion and somebody told me it's Jesus."

"Oh!" he says relievedly. "Yes. Om is very much like that."

"...om?"

The lack of capital letter is perhaps audible.

"Er, Om," Oats corrects, since it is. Or he perceives it to be. Or something. "When he appears before mortals, he usually takes on the shape or a tortoise or a turtle."

Pause.

Mumbled:

"Oh!"

Faith brightens. "Are you from Eska's world? The...four elephants and a turtle world?"

"Oh!" he nods. "Um, yes. That would ... be my world."

Pause.

"You're from the, er, spherical one, yes?"

The Bible isn't the only thing he's been reading.

"I am, yes. Earth."

Faith smiles at him. "So what don't you understand?"

"Um ... well, the word 'Catholic.' I don't, ah, understand why it's used. And I don't think the holidays-- Easter and ... Christmas? I did a little, ah, additional reading ..."

From somewhere in his voluminous black pockets, he pulls out a small pastel-colored book entitled, "My First Easter!"

"Er ... the eggs," he says. "And the rabbit. What is the relevance of the rabbit?"

Oh boy.

"Uhm. The rabbit isn't at all relevant. Nor the eggs It's a gimmick. A thing to get kids interested," Faith explains. "And Catholic...Catholicism is a branch of Christianity. There's lots of different ones..."

If Faith was an Eddie Izzard fan, this conversation would be a little more entertaining.

He blinks.

"A gimmick?" he repeats. "In the Church?"

Memnoch's version of events is making a depressing amount of sense now.

"Ah, I see ... do you have any idea how many branches there are, by any chance?"

Faith looks apologetic.

"Uhm. Well. No? People aren't perfect, they interpret the book in different ways...I'm not a scholar, by any means. I didn't believe any of it for the first 20 years of my life."

He sighs.

"No, I know. Back in Omnia, we have rather a lot of difficulty getting along. But ... we do have rules. And ... standards." Really. They so do.

"There are rules. There are lots of rules. What to eat, when to eat it, what to wear..."

Faith rolls her eyes. "Too many damned rules."

Oats bristles-- though, because he is Oats, he does so rather damply.

"There are reasons for those rules." Pause. "Most of them. Many of them. There are ... ah, some that are mainly traditional or, um, historical."

Faith just looks at him.

"...dietary habits?"

He shrugs.

"Would you want to eat a seagull?"

Faith stares.

"...no. Obviously your religion has...different rules...than the ones I'm thinking of."

"Actually ..." He riffles through Leviticus, stopping at a violet scrap of paper. Violet is the color code for customs shared between Christianity and Omnianism. "Here. Seagulls are unclean in the tradition of the Twelve Tribes of Israel."

"Huh."

Faith looks at it, then shrugs.

"I've never read it."