#vecher

VATICAN'S FINEST ; a hallucination and interpretation penned by VECHER . ( RP 18+ | MV ; MS )

— the right hand of the pope. unconventionally holier than you thought.

inspired and based from a character in Angels & Demons, a novel written by Dan Brown.

prodigy; a young French author with certain... peculiarities .

The finest, wether you like it or not.

a hallucination and interpretation penned by VECHER . ( RP 18+ | MV ; MS )

— ; Rome. The lord's day will be tomorrow and he'll surely be expected to attend to his duties the whole day. Sundays always had the most crucial marks in the calendar for the those with the deep faith. Specially those of his kind.

Well, what do you expect from a priest, wander around as if it's a holiday? Perhaps... yes it's not impossible. But being that priest demands more than the common devotion. More than ever, particularly in that church.

You don't expect the Vatican to be a leisure haven for those of the collar, no?

Being the right hand of the holy father himself meant being the second pope. Quite an exaggeration, but it's the surface of the fact. He might oddly be too young for such responsibility, but being a precious gem of the church fated him to mirror the father. It's a sight, indeed. A young man sacrificing the freedom of his youth to serve the Lord? The College couldn't be more proud. He's their pride. A personification of their Faith's virtues; a mirror of the pope.

But ah, he's young. Being a priest didn't meant sin won't touch you, yes? It finds it ways— a nonchalant one, a bothering one, it did not matter how dreadful it could be— and sip even through holy walls.

It was Saturday. An evening in Rome.

Bold of them to assume the Camerlengo knew nothing of doors. The place was old enough for it to be thought. It had it's marvels, it's secrets that would often be forgotten yet never ceased to be unearthed at times. Growing up inside the house of the lord (if that makes it sound more interesting...) meant being all- seeing. All- knowing too, to be exact. Just like that unseen being they worship. Carlo was taken and raised to become as beautiful as the ever- graceful pillars adorning the church. He's seen it all, they made him. But it's not his fault now that he's seen more than what was allowed to be.

Even priests were as humane as those who grew outside those walls. Curiosity was a natural visitor that the mind invites with open arms. And he's learning to entertain it's knocks. Perhaps his youth had found its way on him as well.

It was not the first night he dared find his way through old passages within his home. He was a sneaking little bastard and he's getting the knack of it. A frame within a wall, a wall beneath a frame... endless possible doors and spiraling stairs that a child surely will fancy getting lost in to. Places can vary once he reaches each ends of the paths he chose. The riverbank, the Passetto di Borgio, a random sewer to the streets... and it only adds up to the fun.

It's Saturday. And a little late. Quite a risk, but he felt that it's necessary to do so. A breathe of air without the hints of intoxicating roses and myrrh.

. . . then rent a bike? Why yes he surely will be in hurry to come back before daylight!

Living his whole life in the city- state as their pride meant rarely seeing the world outside. It's been recently since he's becoming more familiar with the tricks of the old, Roman roads. It's more alive when the skies grow darker. Like this— now. Just after the vespers, he had himself unseen but was caught by another responsibility. Change the candles of the altars took longer that evening. He didn't had the time to change the skin he's in. No time for the fancy cover up.

Throw a coat, mess the hair, hide the collar. Be suspiciously unholy; normal, that's all.

He wants to go and see the outskirts.

Not... necessarily far off the borders of the capital. Roman roads outside the premises of the holy grounds of the city-state is what he considers and assumes they are. He lived in a small world, after all. Walking a pavement was thrilling enough for him. It was alive, loud. Unapologetic. The lights were not mellow. It made his heart pump and his veins more alive. He was an innocent lamb who left it's pastures for the rocks. He's supposed to be resting for early calls of the next day, but perhaps... he should shrug it off for awhile? There's no altars to demand his whispers here. Just cars... People and their own businesses. Bliss.

the night was lovely. A little cold, leaves brushing the sidewalks... it might not be silent and solemn but it brought a sense... a feeling of security to him. He felt unknown, yet welcomed...

He kept his eyes wandering at one of the shops, halting his walk. Not minding if anyone dares to take his attention away from a shop's enormous glass window. The sign suggest it was a leisure club. Muffled music came from inside and soft chattering from people dining inside. The window merely was a door for the light outside... It had elegant ornaments adoring it's inside where large screens of LED TVs electrified his eyes of the advertisements the club has to offer.

It was... bright. People danced on it with colors, and he was innocently enjoying the little videos flashing with rainbows; so vibrant, they made his skin mirror their light as scenes shifted after each scenes before flashing more videos to make one curious of what's inside the shop's doors.

He looked like a child wandering Infront of it, hands gently pressed on the glass... It made him smile.

So innocent.

He was so distracted, no doubt anyone who dares to approach him will fully do the same and stun the priest...