Confronted with the idea of God


I'm one of those "details and implications" guys.
Original poster
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
Online Availability
I work swing shift, schedule changes daily.
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Male
Medieval Fantasy. Or pirates. Pirates are always good. When it comes to reading, however, a good steampunk is always great. Above all, however, I would definitely have to say my favorite is Dark Fantasy.
I just posted a blog based on a writing exercise that I personally have been using for a few years now. Religion is a topic frequently avoided because it gets a little messy at times. At many times. Regardless, I love putting my characters in a situation where the idea of a deity or many is mentioned to them. In this one, I have used a recent character revamp (Found here) and put him in a church where a clergyman has stated he was blessed.

I thought this was a pretty interesting idea to post in the public and see what other peoples characters might do when the idea of god is brought up to them. Remember, the character, not the person, your characters response does not have to reflect yours.

So as a writing exercise post a short passage of what your character would do alone in a church and confronted with the idea of god.

BEFORE READING: The passage below does not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of the writer, just the character. This is a writing exercise for my recently revamped Mystro Kijaki.

"You are blessed by the power of god." This clergyman was doing his best to comfort the exhausted warrior covered in scales, the body of the dragoon hot with blood and passion. This statement warranted an angry huff as Mystro whipped his neck to stare at this man of the church.

"Do you not see me? This is the power of no god, this is not the blessing of a benevolent deity, this is the force of the devil." His claws clenched tightly enough that the soft palms of the man had begun to bleed, dripping blood from the crevices that folded through his fist. "The fact that I do good of my own is my own doing, I have chosen to take this power into my hands and do as I please with it, that is the proof I need to know this is the work of a devil. I am the devils prodigy."

As stubborn as the man of god was, he simply bowed his head and continued to evolve his theory, "Could it not be that you choosing to do good of your own is the work of god within you?"

Another sling of his neck and lunge with the white-scaled arm stuck the robed man to the church wall, holding him beneath the stained glass window depicting the devil himself. "NO!" Screamed the dragoon as the word echoed through the tall building, sound waves bouncing off of every surface and finding themselves on the ears of the only two residing within the church. "I choose to do this and nobody else! If I am the devils creation and you would have me believe god controls my being then you imply that I have no means of existing for myself! If I do not believe it is by my own choice that good is to be done then there is nothing left for me to believe at all. I would sooner give in to the despicable urges of my body before believing I am but a play thing for the powers that be." Releasing the holy man, Mystro snarled and glared with rage in his eyes. There was no way he would believe any of this. "If I am gods play thing then I would slay him myself to free myself from his shackles."

Shocked by the response, the clergyman subtly signed towards his deity and let out a gasp of relief that his neck would continue to support his head another day. "I may only hope you come to know as I do."

Turning around to show the full view of his wide wings covered in white shimmering scales and glossy black patterns stretching from one to the other, more words hissed out of the fanged jaw, "It is you that does not know the true passion of man. I am Dragoon and Human, before I am this beast I am man and you would do your best to place your faith in the people that need it."
"A passion burns in you, my child. A passion to do good, despite your ill-gotten power. The passion of the Holy-"

"PASSION?" screeched the pyromancer at the clergyman. "You dare speak to me of passion?! When your rage can sunder mountains, then you can speak to me of passion." The words echoed through the hallowed halls a moment, leaving an ominous silence in their wake.

"Your god has no control over me. I gave my life and soul to a so-called demon in exchange for the power to do what I must. My passion is my power, my fury the fuel of my flame. I got my revenge, I am free. Not even Fate's Chains bind me to the machinations of the Gods any longer. You have no sway with me."

"My son," continued the clerk, "whether you see it or not, whether you feel their weight, it matters little. We are all part of a grander scheme. You are blinded so much by your rage that you fail to realize that-"

"I KNOW EVERYTHING I MUST." came the pyromancer's roaring reply. "I broke my bondage. Nothing holds me but my own will. I could burn the very heavens if I dared. I'll melt the icy Blue North and turn the Western Deserts to glass, I'll set the robes of your Holy Ones ablaze if it would convince you I am free. Only I stay my hand. Only I control my destiny, for I am The One Who is Not Written."

"You simply do not see it." whispered the clerk. "We are all bound by the Holy Ones' will. Your freedom is Their gift. It is only by Their will that you may do as you please. But your freedom is an illusion. You still live, and so They still have plans for you. All is written, you just haven't found the book with your story." he explained softly.

The pyromancer growled. "I will find it then, and I will burn it. I will not be Fate's slave any longer. My life will be of my own design, even if that means I shall end it."

"If you would burn your book, you would erase your existence. All you have accomplished would be for naught. We all have a story. Without record, we have no existence. That is why the role of Scribe is holy." The clerk smiled. "Pray. You will see."

"If I must have a book, I will be it's writer. I am no character in someone else's story. I am my own Scribe. Pray. You will hear nothing of me in Their plans."

"I have prayed, my son. That is why you are here. My part in the story is to guide you to the right path. So it is written."

"Books are but paper," the pyromancer sneered. "And paper burns easily."

The ember-eyed pyromancer stormed out of the church. "I know, my son."

"I know."
Hilda stepped into the open building, an old temple that was still in use, which could thus be of great interest as a place to visit. The building itself was composed of weathered granite, showing its great age. Stepping through the open and tall front doors she used her great mental speed and perception to take a quick sweep over the chamber inside.

Stone chambers, frescoes and runes along the walls, worn floors no doubt from the passing of time and visitors. The main chamber of the temple had seven different altars each represented by a statue of a Boorean holding an item.

The Axe, The Band, The Deconis Flower, The Hammer, The Saw, The Sling, The Writing Frill

A Boorean who seemed to be the caretaker of this place turned around and saw her, xir body was a spotted brown on white and the slow and paced movements of xir stride indicated someone in no hurry. This place was proving quite intriguing to Hilda, more things to learn about old culture in this place. Hilda went to meet the caretaker, xe seemed surprised from what she knew of Boorean body language. Once up close they exchanged a typical greeting hug.

"Apologies about being so surprised, this is the first time I have ever seen a human come into this temple, what brings you here on this fine day?"

"This building stood out, a modest building of stone among the gleaming spires of bio-metal and cybernetic trees that stud the rest of the city. I was thus utterly intrigued by this building, a stone temple is something I have not seen in 837 Pavonisian years, 4 months, 1 week, 2 days, 5 hours, 31 minutes and 23 seconds. May I thus inquire dear presumed-temple-guardian about what faith was followed here?"

"Oh my you have an odd way of speaking, hmm yes, I'm touched that you decided to come here, it's very rare to get visitors these days. In any case what faith was and even now is being followed here is that of the emergent seven. Each of these seven deeds is one of the best aspects of civilized beings, they exist wherever we go, encouraging us to do good."

"Very interesting, so it seems that worship is going poorly in these times, I am not surprised."

"Well it's no use beating oneself up over it, the fires of faith have long since dwindled to a tiny ember in most major powers. People are looking at what the can see and are often missing out on deep meanderings on what it all means to the soul."

"Perhaps, perhaps not, not everyone ponders the meaning of the self in a temple."

"Yes, that is true, I happen to have a soft spot for them. To me they feel like a great focus, a place where you can truly achieve communion with the emergent aspects of the mind."

"To me, the greatest focus of the self and of the mind lies both in grand new places, but also in nostalgia and the home. A sweeping journey to stir the mind and rouse it, and a return home to settle and compare the thoughts to prior experience."

"Ah, so I take it you are on another sweeping journey? This one focused on the Boorean Empires old history isn't that right?"

"You are entirely correct temple guardian, I feel that each journey makes me spiritually richer and wiser, not just more knowledgeable in the academic sense. A further clarification of this would be that I feel more in tune with culture, better connected to the universe, and its wonders."

"Ah, I see a spiritual wanderer, I myself developed my fondness of temples from the fact that some of me and my families greatest memories and moments of faith came in this place. So I am a product of my environment as much as anything, the universality of the seven deeds resonates with me, and I feel with everyone."

"That is a nice sentiment, what is your name?"

"Briilkhos Javanders."

"It is most pleasant that we met Briilkhos Javanders, my name is Hilda but soma also call me "The Inquisitor". I wish to note that standing in this stone room might not be the most conductive for the fruits of even deeper and more engaging discussion. Perhaps we should relocate?"

"Well that should be no issue, may I invite you into y humble abode where me might have some places to rest as we speak?"

Hilda smiled at he corner of her lips.

"Yes, that would be most excellent honored Javanders, we may even discuss the origin of our faith, those stories will no doubt be long and interesting."

As they went to the inner housing of the temple, light shone in from the windows and illuminated the statues of the seven, they shone warmly in the light as if to welcome the discussion.


Alright this is done now, you may see a part 2 later but i am not sure about that.
  • Like
Reactions: GreatWest
Amazing, really, how a simple building like this could hold so many people, people with the same belief. Arabella knew the power that such belief, faith, could bring, it wasn't the same as her magic, but equally as powerful. She wish she had it, but it wasn't for the likes of her, people like her. Sinners. She tried to teach her once, tried to have faith, to believe in the power of faith. Unknown to the fact that it wasn't that Arabella couldn't have it, she didn't want to, she didn't deserve it. Despite what she said, faith was not for sinners.

~~ 4 years ago ~~

"I think you should try." Laura, Arabella's girlfriend at the time, said. "It's not like there's anything to lose."

Arabella shook her head, the giant cross on her front shadowing her as she stepped away from it. "It's not that easy, that simple."

"What? To have faith?"

"Exactly." Replied the pirate sorceress. "I'm not like you, you know that. You can't learn faith. Not after having lived your entire life bullshitting it."

"You can try." Insisted Laura, holding Bella's hands. "There's no need for you to continue living this daily torture, of course, faith won't make everything better right away, but it gives hope. It gave me hope. You won't know what God has in storage for you until you - "

Arabella ripped her hands away from the other in a sudden move, accidentally hitting a bible that was on top of the table by her side. The book flew a feet away before hitting the ground with a loud noise, echoing throughout the whole church. "I don't care about God." She said in a stern and low voice. "I don't want my life being manipulated by Him. If God is as good as you say He is, then why is my life so fuc**d up? Huh? Why can't I find my brother? Why am I so hated? Why are my parents dead? Why did I kill them??" Her voice had raised its volume as her rage grew, before she took a deep breath to try and calm herself. Laura stood quiet for a while, walking past her lover as she went to go pick up the Bible.

"God may have all of our fates in His hands, but that doesn't mean He'll control our every move. Our actions are still our responsibility, not His. The death of your parents was an accident, you told me yourself." Laura gently stroke the Bible, swiping away all of the dirt of the fall. "What happened next, however, were your choices. You decided to become a thief, you decided to become an assassin, you decided to become a pirate, you decided to become a sinner. Not your powers, not your past, not your brother, not Him; you."

There was a deep silence in the building, where you could hear a pin drop on the floor. Arabella's breathing became louder, the beating of her heart faster. "Why, then?" Her voice cracked. "Why do you even bother? I'm a sinner, God doesn't like sinners. Faith is not for the likes of me. People like me don't deserve it. We want it, but we don't. Do you get it? To want something but at the same time don't?"

"Yes." Was Laura's simple reply. "It's what I feel for you. I want you, Arabella, I want you so bad, but at the same time I don't. Why? You're a sinner, a monster. You're broken, God broke you in every way possible. I'm afraid you'll break me the same way, that I, as well, will become a sinner." The woman approached the pirate, putting the Bible at the same table it was before it got hit. Her hands found Arabella's tear stained cheeks, stroking them in a loving way. "But I can't help it, I love your every cracks. I love how you were broken apart, then put together in a clumsy way, how none of the pieces fit together. And I am selfish, I want to be the one to break you once again, only to fix you the right way. Just like a puzzle. But I can't do this alone, I need His help. And if making you have faith may help me, then I'll convince you to believe Him. Now, tell me, do you believe in God?"

Arabella put his hands above Laura's ones, a pained smile on her face. "Yes, I do."

"Good, then - "

"But I don't have faith. I don't want His help, I don't want Him to fix me. I only want Him to leave me the hell alone. I don't want faith." The sorceress bent down to kiss her lover, continuing her phrase in a whisper. "If my parents death were an accident, then where was God when I was locked away in a dark and cold cell? I was a child. I can't help but blame Him a little for what I turned out to be. And now, I don't want His help anymore. So, don't try, ok? I'm good like this, I'm fine. I am my own master, my own puppet. Like this, I can live. Only like this."

Laura sighed in defeat, but smiled anyway. "Okay. I understand."

"No, you don't"

"Haha, no, I don't. But if this is what you want, then fine, I won't stop you. I'll still love you, no matter what."

"Thank you." Arabella said in relief. "I love you."

"I just want you to know one thing." Laura started to walk towards the exit, leaving the pirate confused. "If God really wasn't watching over you in the past, today, your body would still be rotting inside that cell. Not here, sinning." She gave a tight smile, before continuing. "God works in a crooked way, doesn't He?"

~~ Nowadays ~~

Arabella smiled, a pained one. "Indeed."


So, I think I wrote in here the thoughts of two of my characters, my bad lol I wanted to focus a lot more in Arabella, but I couldn't do it without deepening in Laura as well. So, count it as a little bonus. Hope you like it!
  • Like
Reactions: Ottriman
Yuki had traveled days, each town poorer then the last and just as unwelcomeing. The people had no need for the old ways of the guardians now in this a time of peace. She was one of the last true guards a dying breed of humans that had trained there minds and bodyies to face anything on behalf of the place they protected, there endearment as it was called.

The church was like a breath of fresh air to a drowning man. A place to sleep and recover before she moved on once again. The priest inside was a kind man and lent her a room quickly, "many may not but I remember the wars of old." he said when he saw her releaf that she was not cast aside. The man told her of his adventures, of his power, and she smiled happy to share her own. "War comes again young guardian. I have seen it and I wish to warn the people."

Yuki spoke up against it. "So say the man who knows all and sees all. That this a time of happiness and peace is but a lie and that destruction lay just around the corner. So say he that people will perish and fight while others cower. It will only scare them into panic. It is these moments of peace, ones to fast to be called anything but fleeting that keep the people safe from there own minds. With food low and sickness high we must hold to the prayer that we are not left alone in this. Hope is all the people have left and though they have forgotten us. Turned there backs to us. We the Guardians shall always be both sword and sheild. We exist only to shelter and protect that fragil hope. My endearment gone, my home destroyed by battle and I left alive to relive the moment my blade broke and my sheild was tossed to the side. I failed the people once I won't again. So take you words of warning and tell not a soul. When war comes do as you have always done and comfort the lost, guide then beneath my shield and watch as I defend you with all that I am. You must feed and nurture the hope of the people but let I who had forsaken my innocence and spilled the blood of my enemies, spill my own in defence. I beg of you, seer of the seconds, hours, days. Hold your tongue and give them this time of refuge." the priest said not a word for two years and Yuki stayed in the churches wall's until the enemy came in the night. Then as the people hid in the one place they felt safe, under the eyes of one who saw to much but could not change a thing. She did as she had promised and drew her blade.