Deathless Pose - Taste the Seasons

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Because I'm sure everyone would want to see this little brainchild without subscribing to the LJ community.  My first piece of original writing in quite some time (aren't you priveledged?):

Tasting the Seasons, 725 words

 
Jude was starting to rethink this whole "cult" thing he'd gotten himself into.  Oh sure, it was an ice-breaker on his resume and it really pissed off the old man.  But--and here's the kicker--it was starting to be work.  Jude was more than happy to gamble with his "immortal soul" as his father put it, but he'd be damned if he was going to have to work at being damned.

 "Brother Jude?"

 Jude rolled his eyes and with a dramatic sigh turned to face Acolyte Mikey.  Well, his "cult" name was Acolyte Michael of the Suns, but Jude called him Mikey.  Because calling someone barely able to grow chin stubble "Michael of the Suns" was retarded.  Jude remembered the look on Brother Janus' face when he told him this, and snickered.

"Yeah, Mikey?" Jude asked folding his comic in half and tucking in his back pocket just to prove that he was seriously paying attention this time.  Seriously.

"Brother Face has requested you for the ceremony," Mikey said, looking for all the world like he was doing the pee-pee dance as he fidgeted and hopped from one foot to another.

"The ceremony?" Jude repeated.  Nobody'd told him about no damn ceremony.  Not that such a thing was out of the ordinary, but still, he was a founder or a seventh tier or something like that.  People really needed to tell him these kinds of things so he'd have excuses lined up in advance.  "Which one is it?"

"Um, the Tasting of the Seasons, Brother Jude," Mikey said, keeping his little jitterbug going.  "Brothers Face and Allworthy need your assistance in procuring the venerable ablutions."

"Christ," Jude muttered, running a hand through his hair.  They wanted booze.  Sometimes being the only cultist with a driver's license sucked.

"Um, Acolyte Christ isn't twenty-one yet," said Mikey.

"Naw, I was. . ." Jude started then cut himself.  Stupid cult names and the pretentious fuckholes who picked 'em.  "Doesn't matter.  Go tell the brothers I'll be back with the, uh, ablutions or whatever in about an hour.  All right?"

"Of course, Brother Jude!" Mikey exclaimed, his eyes lighting up like Tiny Tim at a crutch store.  "I'll go do that now!"

"Yeah, you do that."  Jude watched Mikey scamper, really scamper, down the hall.  Bringing out his comic, Jude wondered if the old man would rub his face in it too much if he asked about paying for seminary school.  "He's a dick sometimes.  I'll have to talk to mom first," he muttered, flipping back to where Batman was taking a nightstick to somebody's head.

"I take it you're preparing for your pilgrimage for ablutions, brother?"

"Whu?  Oh, hey, Face," Jude said, being pulled from his literature yet again.  Brother Face, or John McClellan as the civvies knew him, stood with his arms crossed with his face screwed into a sober expression.  "Yeah, I'm making the liquor run.  Did you want anything special?  'Cause I was just gonna get the usual."

"Brother Jude," Face said, his words weighted with accusation.  Not that Jude particularly cared.  Allworthy and Face were always going on about how Jude didn't seem to be helping the "flock" or preaching "in earnest."  Face cleared his throat before continuing, "There has been some talk among the acolytes that you haven't been memorizing the Lore."

"No!  Really?" Jude asked, attempting to feign surprise and outrage but only managing apathy and sarcastic.

"Yes.  It is a disturbing accusation."

"I'm testing their faith and knowledge of the Lore.  I hate to say it, but I'm disappointed that they would shun inner reflection and drag you into their impiety," Jude said, throwing the ball back into Face's court.  Ouch!  Looks like the nightstick wasn't enough; Batman was punching the guy's kidneys, too.

"I didn't know, brother," Face said, not buying the excuse completely, but uncertain enough to let it drop.  Face wasn't as big a stickler for all the cult trappings as Janus, but he was still a big enough nerd to want everyone to follow the rules.  Jude just thought it was funny that the guy chose his name after one of the A-Team.  "Oh, and could you pick up some vodka for Sister Moonravendark?  She, uh, mentioned she liked martinis."

Ah, nerdy, culty love.

"Sure thing, Face," Jude said, promising to call his mom as soon as his cellular phone was in service range.

This will also be cross-posted to the deathless_pose community.  Whee!