Tony opened the door to the church slowly and peeked in. The smell of the empty cathedral rushed over him. The aromas of hundreds of people who had been tramping in and out, giving thanks or confessing sins, mingled and took him back to when he was a kid and his mother made him be an altar boy. It would make him a good man, she used to say. He was glad she wasn’t around to see him now. The cathedral was empty now. The good Padre and his minions were finished with it for the day. He slid between the doors and stood, huddling at the back. The memories flooded over him. He looked down at himself, seeing once again the long robes he wore as he strode through the isles during the services. He could still remember the words, he whispered to himself. His eyes focused on the present again and looked at what he was wearing now. Clothes he thought he could never afford, clothes his parents never would afford. He ran his hand over the smooth material of his jacket; it was as dark as blood. He rubbed his hand across a sleeve, marking how the pattern there matched the collar. His green shirt and tie contrasted and coordinated with the jacket beautifully.
He clenched his hands together thinking, What have these hands done? He continued on through the auditorium, pausing to look at a picture of Mother Mary. Strange how sweet and innocent her eyes are. He couldn’t stand to look at those eyes. His hands ran across his stomach, feeling the metal belt buckle. It was a silver belt buckle with an X in the center. It was a gift from…he didn’t want to think who it was from. He continued on, his mind a blur. He finally came to a crucifix, Jesus hanging from the cross. He fell to his knees and doubled over. He looked at his hands. Were they red? Was that blood? He wiped his hands across his pants. No, it wasn’t blood. The red streaks on his pants were already there, mixed in with the light and dark green streaks. He stood up, looking at these clothes again, the clothes he should never have been able to afford. He felt comfortable. The sound of a door opening or closing came from his right. He didn’t bother to turn to it, he turned around and hurried to where he first came in. He looked back. Whoever it was hadn’t seen him, the cathedral was still empty except for him. His gut felt ill. He wasn’t sure if it was because of who he was or who he had been. He looked around, seeing the basin. Holy water. He wondered if it would burn his hand if he dipped it in. He straightened his jacket, running his fingers across the pattern on the collars, buttoning it at the middle, then stood straight, turned and exited without looking back.
Pale Janus of Pale Heretic has created a clothing materpiece. His new limited edition of only 10 fatigued jackets and pants is exquisite. The pants are streaks of dark and light green, punctuated with streaks of crimson that flow horizontally around the legs, andÂ the nice dark silver belt buckle sports a large X in the center. The red jacket features a unique pattern on the sleeves up to the elbows and matching pattern on each collar. The dark grey jacket is beautifully crafted and accents the pants and shirt, especially one of his alternative Fatigued Suit Boy shirt/tie combinations with a red tie.
As mentioned before, each of these, the pants and each jacket, are limited editions of only 10 each! Hurry to one of Pale’s stores and grab yourself a copy before they’re all gone! The pants sell for $L195 and each jacket is $L495. These outfits are modeled after Pale’s Fatigued Suit Boy which sells for $L795. The alternative shirt/tie combinations are a freebie and match either outfit.
All pictures were taken at San Francesco Assisi.