bibles & bribes

Vytal has managed to find work consistently within the Church after eir first gig with them. Church sermons are accompanied oh-so-nicely with eir own organ playing, and (mysteriously) it seems that all of the other candidates have found themselves either on the outs with the Church or busy with other matters (for now, at least). A few favorable interactions with Oleander also seemed to help smooth things quite nicely, though Vytal was beginning to find the bun a bit simple. Indulgences in vices that don’t align exactly with Vytal’s don’t exactly inspire commendation for the Pride bun.

But, ey are willing to do what it takes to have a stable job. Apartments are expensive, even when splitting the costs with roommates. And eir machinations don’t last forever, causing a few bridges to be burned at eir past few jobs. And so far, this has been a very good stable job. Show up, play accompaniment, maybe get sidetracked by Oleander, and then finally find Mercy in their office to be paid.

It’s been going on a good month or so when Vytal is late to the little appointment ey have with Mercy after the sermon (due to some of that so-called sidetracking). Without knocking, ey slip into their office an hour or so after the typical time ey arrive to grab payment and go. Ey have this habit of entering rooms without knocking, a lack of care for what others may consider ‘privacy’. And that habit serves em well at this moment, because ey see something quite distinctly as ey stand unseen near the grand doorframe.

Mercy is holding the collection basket, humming happily as they sort. They’re facing away from the door, focused in on dividing some of these carats into the Church tithe box and, every so often, a few directly into the pocket of their own habit. Vytal watches, entranced. How direct! How unsubtle a machination. Ey have to admire it, honestly. It seems they were being very careful in exactly how much they were skimming away from the Church, keeping a careful count under their breath. Vytal leans back onto the doorframe, keen to watch exactly how much of these faithful donations go into the pocket of this lovely Greed bun in front of em.

After meticulously stealing about 5% of the carats, Mercy turns to set the empty tithe collection basket on their desk. When they see Vytal at the door, there’s only a second of shock. It quickly turns into a kind, innocent smile. Ey have to commend that as well. If ey hadn’t seen them stealing, ey would not have known.

“Oh! Hello, Vytal. I didn’t see you there,” Mercy says, “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.” Ey can tell they’re scanning eir face for any sign of actually knowing what had been going on.

Vytal weighs eir options in eir mind, before deciding on a good old trusted one. Blackmail, of course. “Oh, not too long,” ey say, grin obscured by eir mask. “Long enough, though.”

“Oh?” Mercy says, a peaceful smile unmoving on their face. “What ever could you mean?”

“Long enough,” Vytal repeats, and approaches the desk where the empty tithe collection basket sits. “It was no trouble, though,” ey drum eir fingers over the handle of the basket. “In fact, I think it may have been a great boon. Just a little bit of waiting.”

Mercy’s smile is unshakable. Vytal needs to learn from them, honestly. A fabric mask is nothing compared to what steadiness that alights upon their face now. The only way ey know they must be filled with some sort of upset of a plan foiled and a loose end created is Vytal knows exactly how much of a loose end ey can become.

“Well,” they say, turning to open the ledger they normally mark down the payments for Vytal’s work in. “I think the real boon here is just how valuable you are to our work here.”

“I agree completely,” Vytal says with a nod. “I’ve much enjoyed my work here, and would be very favorable to continuing. Though, the price of living here has been just so unstable lately.”

“I would have to agree,” Mercy says. There’s the slightest hint of dissatisfaction, cutting off that last word with just a breath syllable said through clenched teeth. But still, they keep their image of a gracious nun to the best of their ability. “And, as an organization generous towards the community that supports it, we would want nothing less than to have one of the people we employ struggling to make rent.”

“The Church of Sulfur is just so kind,” Vytal grins. “Nowhere better. And to think, none of this could be done without the guiding hand of the Church higher ups. Really, you all should be getting a raise as well.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Mercy scribbles down a new number next to Vytal’s name on the ledger. “Perhaps you could bring it up in your next… meeting… with our Head Priest.”

And a called shot about illicit relationships with Oleander… truly, Vytal was working with an expert. Ey tilt their head, considering. This, of course, was a very hostile interaction covered by the veneer of formality and kindness. But ey did actually want to build the relationship here, and not have it entirely founded off of one-sided power. Mercy seems like a good friend to genuinely have, if it was actual friendship.

“Maybe I will,” ey say. “And thank you again, for the bonus. That will go a long way in addition to my normal salary this month.”

Mercy stops writing briefly, raising a slight eyebrow.

Vytal nods, continuing on, “Of course, I realize the sorts of costs maintaining a Church like this might incur. I wouldn’t want to bankrupt a good place of work for a short-term gain.”

Mercy’s smile seems to flicker to genuine for a split second, or at least Vytal wants to believe it does.

“How kind of you,” they say. They scribble out a note about a raise that they were writing on the side of the ledger.

“It’s wonderful working with you, Mercy,” Vytal says. “I’ll see you next week.”