Christine DeChagny (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lethermindwander) wrote2016-11-06 09:38 pm
lethermindwander) wrote2016-11-06 09:38 pm
Setting Fit
[[LET ME KNOW IF ANY OF THIS NEEDS TO BE CHANGED. I got...a little carried away. =| ]]
After dying, Christine went straight up to Heaven. It hadn't even been much of a question, really. Her life had been so sparkly clean, being a good, devout Catholic woman. For a while, it was enough. More than enough. Eternal happiness was beautiful. She was reunited with her father, the one man that held her heart more than any other. Being in heaven also meant that Christine finally got to properly know her own mother. Learn how similar the two of them really were. It filled the void she felt in her heart. With a void that big, though, it didn't last very long and it took her an awfully long time to put the pieces fully together.
She mourned the loss of her husband. Nice, sweet, caring Raoul. She loved to tell her parents stories of their love and how it endured. It eased the pain, to an extent. It also left a bitter taste in her mouth. She wasn't telling them the full truth.
No longer being able to watch her son grow up was the worst feeling. Especially knowing that in her final months, she had been barely cognizant enough to give him a proper goodbye. But Charles knew that she loved him. She had been such a loving, devoted mother for as long as she had been capable. Talking of her son eased the pain even more, her features glowing with all the pride she felt for all of the things her son would accomplish in the future. Whether he followed his passion for music or his budding passion for architecture, Christine knew he was destined for great things.
And she had taken the secret of his true parentage to her grave. She had no intention of revealing it now.
She tried to pretend that Erik had never existed. She imagined that it would have been what he wanted. The child within her hoped for the best, hoped that he'd have found his way into Heaven. The grown woman realized that it was a highly unlikely scenario. As time went on, it grew harder and harder to pretend that she was okay. The afterlife had become more or less an extension of her life. She couldn't say dull, exactly. Christine knew in her heart, that if she had never known Erik, Heaven would have satisfied her. She could have been so blissfully happy, without a care. Without any sort of longing for the things that Erik had shown her, taught her.
Her father could tell that there was something bothering her. Every day, she unraveled a little further and when he could no longer bear to watch it, he confronted her. She told him everything. He was the first to suggest that she make some sort of attempt to find Erik. She started by trying to send correspondence to Hell but no one was ever able to find him. Eventually, two years after she had died, Christine finally came to the conclusion that she'd need to travel down to Hell herself. The prospect terrified her. She had heard the stories of the trouble that Angels would inevitably find themselves in downstairs. Everyone that knew her, tried to stop her from applying for the visa but she had to. She had the chance to see Erik again. To be with Erik again, to hear his voice and fall into his world once more. Perhaps she'd find that she truly belonged there.
As far as journeys into Hell go, hers was rather uneventful. The agent that had been sent to fetch her had likely been one of the more pleasant ones. Patiently explaining all of her questions about Hell and the culture contained within. Even as they navigated the maw, the agent commented on how dreadfully dull this one was being. That they were normally far more exciting and dangerous. As they arrived though, Christine already found that she felt far more alive than she had in years.
The first city in Hell that Christine arrived in was enormous. A city called Phlegyas, it wasn't quite one of the giant, central cities but of all the options presented to her, Christine felt like she'd find Erik in a large, glorious city that was filled to the brim with exciting things. It sat near a river that allowed demons to travel up and down it fairly easily. That and the scenery was pretty fantastic. Aside from the volcanoes looming over it. Even those had their charm, though. After a few months of residing in it, Christine never fully adjusted. She had found work easily enough, using her voice to entertain any who would listen. The fast paced, hyper-violent and modern feel of the city turned out to be a little too much for her. Too demonic, even with a small, vocal population of angels trying to improve the city. Once she was absolutely sure that Erik was not in it, she left, moving onto the next city.
By the second or third Podunk helltown, Christine had developed a sort of system. To protect herself, to make sure that she would never get too involved in demon affairs. Upon arriving, she would create some sort bulletin, a post on that city's hellnet. She would sing a song that would be poignant to Erik and Erik alone and leave it at that. If he was there, Christine had no doubt in her mind that he'd contact her. Shortly after, she'd leave, moving on to the next. She didn't want to get attached, she didn't want to assimilate into the demon population. She wanted to leave her trail of breadcrumbs and be on her merry little way.
Of course, she ran into minor troubles occasionally but for the most part, she slipped in and out with hardly anyone noticing her, especially once she had discovered those lovely potions that would hide her wings in places that were particularly hostile.
Most of her life in Hell, to be quite honest, was spent on the train. Waiting. Planning. Dreaming. Hoping that when she finally found her fallen angel that he'd actually be happy to see her. Perhaps it was the hostile environment of Hell but. Her resolve was beginning to waver. At least until she got a lead. When she had inquired of a man that looked like a corpse, someone pointed her in the direction of a town called Charon. It was said that most of the citizens looked like walking corpses in Charon. For the demons that couldn't assimilate into any other town, Charon was a paradise. It was small. Smaller than any other town she had been in thus far. Barely even a blip on whatever constituted a map in Hell. It was sparse, the kind of town that was perpetually in a state of getting destroyed and rebuilt on account of the nasty wildlife that hunted right around the edges of town. She highly doubted that she'd find Erik here but it had been one of the only leads she had ever received. It couldn't hurt.
Just as she had gotten off the train, her foot immediately landed in a small pile of litter. As she brushed it off, she found that one piece of paper was stubbornly clinging to the sole of her shoe. When she reached down to peel it off, she realized that it was an advertisement. It was difficult to make out the words or the images. The paper was torn and burned, the color stripped away because of the relentless, coarse sand. After studying it for a great while, she managed to make out enough of the ad that it immediately convinced her to turn around and buy a ticket to the city listed there. She approached the window with a hopeful smile.
"Next train to Little Hades."
And so Charon led her to his master.
After dying, Christine went straight up to Heaven. It hadn't even been much of a question, really. Her life had been so sparkly clean, being a good, devout Catholic woman. For a while, it was enough. More than enough. Eternal happiness was beautiful. She was reunited with her father, the one man that held her heart more than any other. Being in heaven also meant that Christine finally got to properly know her own mother. Learn how similar the two of them really were. It filled the void she felt in her heart. With a void that big, though, it didn't last very long and it took her an awfully long time to put the pieces fully together.
She mourned the loss of her husband. Nice, sweet, caring Raoul. She loved to tell her parents stories of their love and how it endured. It eased the pain, to an extent. It also left a bitter taste in her mouth. She wasn't telling them the full truth.
No longer being able to watch her son grow up was the worst feeling. Especially knowing that in her final months, she had been barely cognizant enough to give him a proper goodbye. But Charles knew that she loved him. She had been such a loving, devoted mother for as long as she had been capable. Talking of her son eased the pain even more, her features glowing with all the pride she felt for all of the things her son would accomplish in the future. Whether he followed his passion for music or his budding passion for architecture, Christine knew he was destined for great things.
And she had taken the secret of his true parentage to her grave. She had no intention of revealing it now.
She tried to pretend that Erik had never existed. She imagined that it would have been what he wanted. The child within her hoped for the best, hoped that he'd have found his way into Heaven. The grown woman realized that it was a highly unlikely scenario. As time went on, it grew harder and harder to pretend that she was okay. The afterlife had become more or less an extension of her life. She couldn't say dull, exactly. Christine knew in her heart, that if she had never known Erik, Heaven would have satisfied her. She could have been so blissfully happy, without a care. Without any sort of longing for the things that Erik had shown her, taught her.
Her father could tell that there was something bothering her. Every day, she unraveled a little further and when he could no longer bear to watch it, he confronted her. She told him everything. He was the first to suggest that she make some sort of attempt to find Erik. She started by trying to send correspondence to Hell but no one was ever able to find him. Eventually, two years after she had died, Christine finally came to the conclusion that she'd need to travel down to Hell herself. The prospect terrified her. She had heard the stories of the trouble that Angels would inevitably find themselves in downstairs. Everyone that knew her, tried to stop her from applying for the visa but she had to. She had the chance to see Erik again. To be with Erik again, to hear his voice and fall into his world once more. Perhaps she'd find that she truly belonged there.
As far as journeys into Hell go, hers was rather uneventful. The agent that had been sent to fetch her had likely been one of the more pleasant ones. Patiently explaining all of her questions about Hell and the culture contained within. Even as they navigated the maw, the agent commented on how dreadfully dull this one was being. That they were normally far more exciting and dangerous. As they arrived though, Christine already found that she felt far more alive than she had in years.
The first city in Hell that Christine arrived in was enormous. A city called Phlegyas, it wasn't quite one of the giant, central cities but of all the options presented to her, Christine felt like she'd find Erik in a large, glorious city that was filled to the brim with exciting things. It sat near a river that allowed demons to travel up and down it fairly easily. That and the scenery was pretty fantastic. Aside from the volcanoes looming over it. Even those had their charm, though. After a few months of residing in it, Christine never fully adjusted. She had found work easily enough, using her voice to entertain any who would listen. The fast paced, hyper-violent and modern feel of the city turned out to be a little too much for her. Too demonic, even with a small, vocal population of angels trying to improve the city. Once she was absolutely sure that Erik was not in it, she left, moving onto the next city.
By the second or third Podunk helltown, Christine had developed a sort of system. To protect herself, to make sure that she would never get too involved in demon affairs. Upon arriving, she would create some sort bulletin, a post on that city's hellnet. She would sing a song that would be poignant to Erik and Erik alone and leave it at that. If he was there, Christine had no doubt in her mind that he'd contact her. Shortly after, she'd leave, moving on to the next. She didn't want to get attached, she didn't want to assimilate into the demon population. She wanted to leave her trail of breadcrumbs and be on her merry little way.
Of course, she ran into minor troubles occasionally but for the most part, she slipped in and out with hardly anyone noticing her, especially once she had discovered those lovely potions that would hide her wings in places that were particularly hostile.
Most of her life in Hell, to be quite honest, was spent on the train. Waiting. Planning. Dreaming. Hoping that when she finally found her fallen angel that he'd actually be happy to see her. Perhaps it was the hostile environment of Hell but. Her resolve was beginning to waver. At least until she got a lead. When she had inquired of a man that looked like a corpse, someone pointed her in the direction of a town called Charon. It was said that most of the citizens looked like walking corpses in Charon. For the demons that couldn't assimilate into any other town, Charon was a paradise. It was small. Smaller than any other town she had been in thus far. Barely even a blip on whatever constituted a map in Hell. It was sparse, the kind of town that was perpetually in a state of getting destroyed and rebuilt on account of the nasty wildlife that hunted right around the edges of town. She highly doubted that she'd find Erik here but it had been one of the only leads she had ever received. It couldn't hurt.
Just as she had gotten off the train, her foot immediately landed in a small pile of litter. As she brushed it off, she found that one piece of paper was stubbornly clinging to the sole of her shoe. When she reached down to peel it off, she realized that it was an advertisement. It was difficult to make out the words or the images. The paper was torn and burned, the color stripped away because of the relentless, coarse sand. After studying it for a great while, she managed to make out enough of the ad that it immediately convinced her to turn around and buy a ticket to the city listed there. She approached the window with a hopeful smile.
"Next train to Little Hades."
And so Charon led her to his master.