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 Paying To Our Faiths, Tag Rosa
✧ CLAUDE FROLLO
 Posted: Feb 22 2017, 05:57 PM
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594 • Homunculus • Righteousness • Paris


she will be
mine or she will burn
How he had found this quaint little shop was rather something of a miracle. Not to say that it was entirely shocking - after all, if the shop occupied any space in this place he was bound to happen upon it at some point. Though, he rather did like to believe that fate had guided him. It stood out somewhat differently from the rest, the signage in the windows pleasantly familiar. Of course what was sold within was most likely not so tailored to his faith - it was a design feature, one made to attract others to it. But if fate had led him here, then he at least would like to investigate.

This “New Orleans” was...well, a step above New York, he would say. His expectations of the city folk were high - he was rather well aware of that at the very least. Of course, the times had changed. What was deemed “appropriate” had changed. He was rather solidified in his ideals but even he had begun to….sway, ever so slightly. Recent discoveries had forced him to reconsider sin. And of course there was….the thought of Witchcraft, and the...ah, there was an appropriate idiom, “desperate times” calling for “desperate measures”. When one became desperate, Witchcraft of a benign nature was perhaps….permissable. Benign Witchcraft was, after all, within God’s graces and those who practiced were Good and Pure. Yet even to say so still twisted his insides; he did not like the idea of associating Witchcraft in any form with goodness and things that were Holy. Yet fate did not give him much choice. When there was dark sorcery at work, at times, only sorcery could be used to combat its own kind.

This place, however….he wanted to believe that the owner of this shop was faithful as the lovely architecture might imply. If it was so, then perhaps he would have to...make a purchase; not for any immediate need, but because he felt, in a way, obligated to offer his support to those who accepted God’s graces. He had not been to the port town he once visited in a very long time - his heart felt too much pain to go there - but times long passed he would provide for the impoverished people and they would thank him and God who had sent him to them. Supporting communities who held Him in their hearts was perhaps his far preferred duty as God’s hand; disciplining the sinful was to do glorious justice, yes, but it was bringing His warmth and love to others that brought perhaps something to that empty hole in his heart.

Claude stepped into the humble shop, pushing the door open with a single hand. The jingle was warmly pleasant to the ears, and it smelled certainly lovelier than the streets. He took a moment, then, to once more admire the lovely windows. Before turning his attention to the shop itself. What intrigues might he find here?
He is wearing normalish clothes. Still gaudy but not ancient. , ♥ lauz

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❂ ROSA LAVEAU
 Posted: Mar 14 2017, 05:05 AM
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Today had been positively languid. At least from her perspective. From the time she woke up until now, it seemed as though everything was just dragging along. She had a feeling at least one thing interesting was going to happen today but since she wasn't sure what that interesting thing was, she didn't actually feel like putting much effort in the day. For all she knew, she was going to find out that Enrique's dead twin brother actually faked his own death and had been the one trying to ruin his relationship with Sofia. Which would be interesting but she called that one after Isabella's meeting with a shady man in the first episode of this season. So for the time being, she was trapped within the confines of her store. Which, while somnolent and dull, was hardly something new. No one had been by as of yet, though it was only about 2:30 in the afternoon. Of course, just as she thought of how dreadfully stodgy the day was, someone came inside.

Rosa knew the second the man stepped foot into her shop that this was not what he thought it was. There were no outward signs that she noticed, such as a large cross that some people liked to wear, but she could tell just by looking at him that they didn't follow the same belief system. If she had to guess, it was the paintings in her window that caught his interest. Now that he was inside though, he was in for a surprise.

It wasn't as though her shop looked like a spiritual shop. There were no dark corners or smoking alters - though she did have an alter behind the counter - or even a sign broadcasting the fact that she made gris-gris bags. Her shop had nice clean white walls and polished wood floors, there was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. At least, not until someone notice what she sold. Her shelves were filled with herbs, candles, crystals, various different divination tools, traditional jewelry, and even some educational kits for those who were new to the faith. If she had to guess though, the large paintings for sale directly across from the door would be the first thing to tip him off. Sure, there were paintings of saints, but they were hung alongside images of their African counterparts and artistic renditions of veves. Rosa shifted in her seat so that the palm of her hand hid her smile while she waited for the realization to dawn on the man.




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✧ CLAUDE FROLLO
 Posted: Mar 17 2017, 11:26 PM
Quote
594 • Homunculus • Righteousness • Paris


she will be
mine or she will burn
He’d not been fully sure what he was expecting, when he came into this shop. He’d had his hopes, to be certain, given the architectural design - but what he found on the inside very quickly proved itself to be something different. Er….not, he supposed, to say that he’d had any immediate expectations to speak of. Inklings, perhaps, thoughts and fancies as to what he might find within, but none were what greeted him, to be sure. It was not….precisely an immediate realization, he would give the storeowner that much. The first thing to draw his gaze was not the paintings, but rather the wares being sold. He was a man who, upon entry, looked not directly in front of him, but at what he was meant to look at. In a shop, that was naturally the products being offered. There were certainly some lovely trinkets to be found - he was especially fond of the crystals and the jewelry, they looked well crafted and...intriguing. He had a particular fondness for things of that sort, one that only grew to a greater appreciation with time and exposure to more cultures.

His eyes did, however, eventually land on the paintings. And they, ah - well they were masterpieces yes, but they certainly showed that this was not at all the sort of shop he may have expected. Yet, all the same he did draw nearer to them for a closer look. Artful, very skillful, but they were….certainly different. Yet, he found himself intrigued by them all the same. He’d seen similar before, but not together with the paintings of the saints. Never together. And neither were given greater prominence than the other - they simply hung side by side, all paintings especially exquisite. It was about then that he saw the woman of colour who stood behind the counter. She was peering at him with keen looking eyes, one hand just in front of her face, just enough that it was hard to discern her expression. But her eyes showed amusement and perhaps a bit of trickery. Yet there was also knowledge there, or seemed to be. He looked her over, raising a brow.

”They’re all very lovely.” he murmured, clasping his hands behind his back, standing just a slight bit taller. ”I saw the paintings in your window and felt drawn in. It’s not quite what I expected, but I can’t claim to be disappointed, either.”
Please don't be racist please please please ok good so far. , ♥ lauz

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❂ ROSA LAVEAU
 Posted: Apr 21 2017, 06:03 AM
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Rosa was pleasantly surprised by his comment. After watching him peruse through her wares and eye the effigies on her wall, she would have expected some sort of rude comment. Lord knows that she had met many a bigots who chose to scoff at her faith if she ever mentioned it and there had even been a few rare occasions in which some haphazard cad had come into her shop and sneered at what she had to offer. Though why they did so, or how they came across her shop in the first place, had always been a mystery to her. This fine gentleman however, seemed to have at least some interest in what she had to offer. And that was something she could appreciate.

"Why thank you. They were all painted by local artists." She replied, shifting on her stool as to appear a bit more open and so that she could give him a more genuine smile without her hand in the way. "The paintings in my window included. I can show you other works by the same artists if you're interested." It was her job to sell things after all. "Though, if you don't mind my asking, what were you expecting to find?"




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✧ CLAUDE FROLLO
 Posted: Apr 25 2017, 12:38 AM
Quote
594 • Homunculus • Righteousness • Paris


she will be
mine or she will burn
He could not rightly say that what she beheld was within his personal interests, not in the direct sense. On a particular level - to say, intellectually rather than that of faith - he was certainly intrigued. She had a unique array of wares, that was certain. And while he himself certainly did not follow all of the faiths that were so clearly depicted, he felt no need to speak ill of them. Not now, at least, as he was, older and wiser. The Claude Frollo that was young and filled with anger, frustration, would certainly have haughtily spoken against the woman. The Claude Frollo of now had become aware of many things - in particular, the existence of figures of lore. Magic of a benign nature. That, of course, was still harder for him to bear - simply because of his...past with Witchcraft. But that was not relevant here, now. He had become aware of a far greater world than his own, and was slowly beginning to….adjust to it. These other faiths, he supposed, were not so different from the notion of a world of magic. Certainly to hold these faiths close to one’s heart was better than to turn towards sin.

He offered a small smile and a nod as she elaborated - local artists, that was wonderful. It meant that she was supporting this community; it was easy to acquire artwork from anywhere - fancier, prettier works, at least by the definition of what “beauty” should be. Yet he found this to be ever more beautiful, the notion that she chose instead to source works from those who lived within the area, and put their own works on display. Her posture shifted and she smiled at him, elaborating that...she the works included those in the window. She was a very heavy supporter of the community, then. That was pleasing, and admirable.

A hand came up, adjusting his spectacles as he peered at her through the lenses. ”I suppose I’m not sure what I expected.” he murmured, after a short moment of pondering silence. ”I saw the lovely work in your windows and thought to myself that I should see for myself. And I am a believer in fate; there is a force which drew me here beyond my own control.” He offered a wry sort of smile then, looking once more at the works around them. ”I am curious; are these local artists...present only, or those that have otherwise moved along, but were, perhaps, born here? And am I…” Another pause, this one with a slight twinkle in his eye, ”detecting a particular theme within your works?”
Hey he doesn't sound like a 100% douche nozzle , ♥ lauz

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