[center][h1][color=f7941d]Br. Clifford 'Cliff' Laranja[/color][/h1] [h3]Time: Early Morning, just as Cliff arrived at Sol City[/h3] [h3]Location: FSC Retreat House, Parkview[/h3] [/center] [hr] "You know," the young man adjusted his glasses as he gazed at the luxurious pearl-white walls built upon rugged lyons sandstone whilst supporting a large oriental-styled onyx roof. A few paces from the large house which sprawled over a wide expanse of land was a serene garden of cherry blossoms and towering acacias which housed a large grotto devoted to the Blessed Virgin whose hands were clasped in prayer as her lifeless eyes turned to the skies in a silent conversation with God. Just beside the grotto flowed a lithe pond with lilypads floating about its surface with a small turtle using the pads as a makeshift boat as it ruled its damp domain. "For a religious order with a vow of poverty, we seem to be getting the more luxurious end of things, brother Victor." Cliff titled his head in inquiry at the elder brother as Victor chuckled before placing a reassuring hand on the lad's shoulder. "We're only able to live in this beautiful place because of our benefactors who were generous enough to let the brothers reside here." Victor offered a toothy grin to Cliff. In response, Cliff shook his head before surrendering to a system he had little experience traversing through. The Christian Brothers had always focused on education as their goal, obtaining sponsors or benefactors along the way which greatly helped with their mission to improve the quality of education in different places around the globe. While the more experienced of brothers were sent to more challenging and more poverty-infested areas, novices such as Cliff were allowed to dip their feet in better conditions. The young brother looked at his colleagues, walking about with their black habits alongside the white rabat which hung from their collars. It was the trademark of a Lasallian community, and even though there were only about seven or eight of them, it was still a place Cliff would call home. Cliff knew he had sacrificed a lot to pursue this kind of life devoted to both God and education. His parents who had sorely wanted him to become a medical doctor, his relatives who had looked up to him to continue his bloodline, and even his feelings for a certain girl back home-- he had turned his back on all of it because he believed that life was more than just money and a quick tumble in the sheets. He couldn't wait to start his journey, a choice he had made on his own against all odds. "So, where's my room, brother Vic?" Cliff beamed at the elder brother who laughed. "Oh, dear," Victor tried to catch his breath. "Only the older brothers get to live here as of the moment, Cliff. But, don't worry. You've been allotted an apartment closer to the university." [hr] [center][h1][color=f7941d]Br. Clifford 'Cliff' Laranja[/color][/h1] [h3]Time: Noon[/h3] [h3]Location: Goodhomes Affordable Apartments, near Light Lane[/h3] [/center] [hr] Vow of poverty. Maybe, he understood it a little more now. Staring at the dilapidated paint off the walls of the designated apartment in Light Lane, Cliff swallowed down the ball of spit which had formed in his agape mouth. While this was definitely nearer to the University as compared to the brothers' abode at Parkview, Cliff began to regret voicing his opinion, and would have settled gladly to stay at Parkview instead of this... box. However, he had his task and the expectations of the Christian Brothers on his shoulders. His role was not to lounge about in comfortable cushions or airconditioned halls. He was to use his six months of probation to see if the education profession was indeed for him and to see if he was ready to fully commit to his onyx habit which fluttered in the winds. There was another problem echoing in his mind. It was a matter of simple mathematics really, but the gist of it was that three flights of rickety stairs plus three pieces of heavy luggage would either result in Cliff ending up in a hospital or even a morgue. Two places he never really intended to visit just yet. He could just carry them all up one by one, but as much as he wanted to trust everyone, the temptation to steal would definitely heighten should he leave his luggage unattended. "Ask, and you shall receive," Cliff groaned as he conceded to a fate of gambling against the tapestries of the universe to lift all of his luggage together. The presence of a decrepit elevator with an ominous warning sign should have been the red flag. With a huff, Cliff heaved his luggage one step at a time, beads of sweat trickling down his brows as it stained his white rabat in grey streaks. Each agonizing lift of the luggage knocked on the old wood, the foundation creaking with age as Cliff had to start allaying the fear of him being buried alive beneath a barrage of maggot-infested wooden beams. Years of pouring over books, earning degree after degree had left his mind at the apex of knowledge and yet his body ached at the slightest labor, like the filthy capitalist that he was. Well, it did go to show that a Ph.D. could also mean a pretty huge deadweight. At this point, Cliff fully accepted the fact that gravity continued to be a cruel mistress who paid no heed to how many letters came after a person's name. Well, he could definitely use the workout, anyway.