I AM WHAT GOD MADE ME.

SUMMARY

i. (mid 50s, he/him, intersex), born from a poor family in san marcos (guerrero, mexico), vincent has been witness to suffering and men's cruelty from a tender age. he has, however, always been moved by a deep desire to help others and soon found himself choosing the path of priesthood. he has served in some of the most despairing places on earth as well as warzones such as congo, iraq and afghanistan.

ii. slightly below average height (about 1.70 m), a little narrow shouldered. thick dark hair, slightly curled at the edges, that reach a little past his ears. with gray only just starting to show along the side of his head. warm, big brown eyes that endear him to most. he has a somewhat youthful look to him that makes placing his exact age hard.

iii. unbeknownst to him until he was in his 30s and got injured in a car bomb attack, vincent has internal female reproductive organs (although sterile). this put his faith to the test and almost caused him to resign from his post, but he ultimately decided not to go through with the operation that would have removed the female parts of his body.

VERSE ROUTES,

default / pre-movie. spans from the early years of his priesthood in mexico to being made ordinary of the archdiocese of kabul and, later, cardinal in pectore (his name kept secret, literally meaning 'in the heart ' of the pope).

vampire au (modern). tba but trust that i'm cooking.

castelvania. here.

this is a very observant man, vincent thinks as he enjoys the late morning sun, after mass.  he cannot say he knows nicoló very well;  after all, vincent has arrived in this small mediterranean town only a few weeks before, alone and with little more than a rosary to his name. he needed to be near the sea, he explained to the elderly nun that lives not too far from him  (she likes to remind him to eat enough, tender like a mother, a sister, a longtime friend). he needed to rest. to reflect and pray.

he comes here almost every day, to this small cafe nestled in a quiet corner of the town's square, in what has become a routine for him.  he rises, as always, very early, prays, co-officiates mass, then he allows himself this little indulgence. good coffee, a book and, when he feels like it, something sweet to go with the rest. still, the observation surprises him — rather, the directedness of it does — but just a little. there is a gravity to nicoló's eyes that makes vincent feel like he would know, if vincent were to deny, that he would not be telling him the truth.

nicoló reminds him of the holy father  (who vincent has met only once).  a good man with an unfailingly piercing gaze. one that read right through vincent, not too long ago, when he had tried to resign, suffocated by the dark weight of his thoughts. vincent smiles, somewhat sheepish. it is a rather bold comparison to make, he knows, even if only among the privacy of his own thoughts.

'' i had a crisis of faith, you could say. not in god, no, never.. in myself. in my worthiness of his love. it's why i came here, away from my parish in baghdad. ''

he stops there, not wishing to place his burdens on the man's shoulders.  it is not his help vincent is seeking in coming here;  i sought the lord, and he answered me, he delivered me from all my fears.

the chapel is breathtaking at dawn, with blades of sunlight just starting to touch the marble floors and a profound silence that carries the nearness of god.  it's holy. it's so beautiful vincent feels he might be brought to tears. for the first time since he set foot in rome, he is truly at peace, rosary between his fingers, knees dutifully pressed to the floor and the sharp pang of hunger suppressed like a sordid matter. the thought of blood derails his prayer for a moment alone, before he is able to finish and rise to his feet.

notes. set loosely within the world of castelvania, this verse takes place in the 1500s / 1600s. albeit fictional, it is also inspired by history and deals with colonialism and forced catholic conversion.

brief overview. converted to catholicism by the spanish as young boy, vincent benitez (36) is now the bishop of veracruz. however, his life is shaken when he is called to rome by a cardinal he befriended in veracruz: he is bitten and turned by a vampire during the long journey towards the city and taken to the heart of the holy roman church, believed to be sick with some grievious malady.

@1mperium's eyes are cold and dark, but vincent finds he has no desire to run or divert his gaze. he has never been easily intimidated, even in life, even when confronted with the worst of humanity during his mission. vincent doesn't look like much of a priest now; he is not wearing his cassock or his collar and his rosary is safely tucked underneath the sleeve of his simple blue shirt, wrapped around his wrist and forearm. but maybe the knowledge is enough. he wonders if it can be smelled on him, even from the other side of a small tea house in beirut.

he makes sure to thank the man who brings him tea, arabic coming to his lips naturally. he knows he cannot drink it, yet the smell of cardamom is a very human comfort vincent still clings to. with a pang of sadness, he realizes the sweet man has also brought a plate with some sfouf and knafeh. he almost rushes to his feet to have him bring it back, not wishing to offend him with his refusal to eat, instead he inclines his head toward giulio. the vampire is not sitting at the same table, preferring to keep a comfortable and detached distance, perhaps, but vincent has no need to raise his voice to be heard clearly.