Toby's Church

At the entrance of a church next to the smoldering ruin that was Toby's home, Olive screams at the sight of what appears to be the human approximation of a spider… or perhaps a scorpion? "What the fuck is that?"   Corey doesn't respond. He only watches as events unfold. He looks at Whiskey who just stares, her face pale as her eyes follow the unnatural movement of its many limbs.   "That's Neddy. He's sweet." Toby speaks with a wide grin.   Olive manages to turn away from the sight and spots three shambling corpses moseying through the pews. "Mavis is going to shit a brick." She turns to Cory, pointing at him as if her finger were a weapon. "Were you going to mention she's a fan of Mary Shelly or did it slip your mind?"   "Would it have made a difference? Too late now, anyway. I've already welcomed her in. You know how contracts work. "   Olive sighs. "I probably would have taken a moment to consider it, at least."

Cory shrugs and shakes his head but it's Toby that replies, her hands clasped behind her back as she stepped into the church, almost skipping as she did. "I actually hated Frankenstein."   Olive tilts her head and scoffs, gesturing to Neddy as if her argument spoke for itself. "Bullshit."   Toby spins around, and giggles. "Victor Frankenstein was the worst. He lacked ambition, he took no responsibility, and frankly his creation was uninspired." She clicks her tongue and looks around as if waiting for a response.   A human skull somehow grafted to two human hands rises from the back of the church and sitters its way to her. "And this is Thumble."   Cory smiles, sharing in just how much she cares for her creations. She holds out Thumble to Olive, displaying the creature with pride; with love.   Olive studies it for a moment and finally nods with a furrowed brow. "That one is cool. I like Thumble. Oh!" She smiles and leans forward, lowering her voice. "I have familiars too. Wanna see?"   "Mmhm," Toby's response is coupled with an eager nod.   Olive straightens her back, engages every muscle in her core and lets out a sound that perfectly mimics a crow. Moments after several crows appear. Olive points them out as they fly In lazy circles above them. "That's Winston and the old one with gray feathers likes to be called gramps…"

Throughout humanity's history, religion has been both a positive and negative influence on the world. When the world ended, nothing changed in that regard. There are some who still believe in something, often due to the absurd and often supernatural state of the world as it is now. Others cite the state of the world as proof of the opposite. How could the world be this absurd if an intelligence lay beyond it?   Regardless of what one believes, religious buildings serve a new purpose. For many who've yet to find a place to belong, churches are neutral ground. They can always find rest and some still operate as if the world hadn't ended. Isolated and safe, these places are a welcome sight no matter what you believe when rain falls or you've been walking for many hours. They also act as a place to meet, to discuss and debate the nature of the world and exchange information.   Dires refuse to enter religious buildings, and recently it has been discovered that stained glass can protect from the rainbows. The older the church, the better. In some communities, however, churches are abandoned, left vacant either from a lack of desire, time, or simply a lack of faith. This leads us to Toby's Church.  

Toby's church once held a catholic congregation, a flock of around three hundred. It still stands defiantly against the winds of time, though its congregation has changed dramatically. October Wyatt uses the church to house her "projects," each being the result of necromantic experimentation. Most are normal looking enough, but some are far more creative than nature intended.   There are ten such projects as of now, four of which are merely humans Toby intends on restoring to life. You also have a skull affixed to a human hand with 10 fingers named Thumble, the human spider/scorpion thing called Neddy, two animated skeletons named bonnie and clyde, the combined remains of several canines named Buttercup, and a one eyed bird of prey that can't quite fly yet named Dave.   Of course, this doesn't include the myriad of corpses in the attached graveyard, a small section of which is reserved for pets. It also doesn't include the project that have yet to reach completion, hidden away in the basement of the church. This is where most of the work is done, as it's cool enough to help preserve the remains in combination with her magical skill.

There are two sets of double doors, the first leading into the vestibule and further in is the second which leads to the narthex, both being antechambers leading into the nave.   The nave has three aisles with the pews between them. The aisles lead to the sanctuary, which is where Toby reanimates her projects.   There are several entrances that lead to adjacent chambers, and a steeple. The steeple holds several bells and the inner workings of a pipe organ that hasn't been used in years.

"Are you sure it can handle the weight?" Cory asks.   Olive studies the church and graveyard, trying to come up with a clear answer. "I have no idea. If the man downstairs doesn't care, then why should we?" Olive shakes her head and says, "It might stabilize it. Maybe it'll walk right after this."   "Maybe." Cory stares at the church and only looks away when the ground shakes beneath his feet. In the distance, he watches as Dread Romantic, their walking island, rises to the sky on its spindly chicken legs. It takes several wide steps, wasting little time in reaching the church.   The legs gradually bend, growing shorter as they are reassured into the thick black tar holding the entire mass together. As it nears the ground, arms with gray skin emerge from the tar, each folding and unfolding themselves as they surround the church.   The hands, each with seven fingers, dig into the ground, burrowing deep. The church and the graveyard begin to shake but not enough to cause damage.

The group backs away as cracks form in the earth. The whole mass of land rises, held aloft and hoisted over the structures already on the island. It's a slow process, each hand placed at just the right spot.   The descent is careful, the land mass shifting to the right, then the left. It is as if whatever intelligence lay behind this spectacle was blindly fitting a puzzle piece into place.   When the church is integrated into the island, it's almost silent. The slight grate of stone on stone is heard but there's no rumble, no explosive burst of sound as it slide into place.   The black tar moves in. It wriggles into the soft dirt and clay, tunneling and hardening into pipes that will collect waste and brace the structure.   When the process is done, the walking island stands straight and tall. It turns and indeed walks with a far more natural and balanced gait. It returns the direction it came, a crater left in its wake.