Fable - Ask The Gloom Between Stars

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Solitude

Thicker than Blood and Shadows
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The sky was overcast with dark mists and clouds pregnant with rain. Humidity hung in the air, partly from the large lake beneath the moss-covered ravine. A much larger river must have ran through here centuries ago, but now only a humble river about the verdant greens covered the rock and ground. Not many knew of the smallest of the Isles of Sheketh, called many things depending on what people you asked, but every year it seemed to grow ever greener. The lone volcano on the island was considered dormant, although every generation people would see plumes of smoke dark the skies like the rest of its brethren on the bigger islands.

Solitude’s mask kept her warm breath from steaming out from her mouth in the crisp chill around her as she traveled down to the lone building at the edge of the lake. Large imposing walls of rock and magma kept it well hidden, and with all the fog wafting up, it either took an eagle eye to discern the location of the building or someone who knew where to look to find it.

Solitude happened to be in the latter, but if she did get lost, all she had to do was follow her gut. It had been awhile since she saw her brothers and sisters of the Church, and while it would be a stretch to say she looked forward to seeing them, there was a comfort in being with your own people. Also just happened that it was a comfort to be far away from Cortos and the damn Radiant Church.

Sol wasn’t sure how she kept getting intercepted by those crazed heretics, but the past year, every contract she had taken seemed to have either a Celestial-thirsty bimbo or some yoked-out holy paladin or a sun-worshipping geezer waiting to pounce on her. She supposed it was part of the job, to be nameless and faceless and yet hated in every corner of Arethil. Hated until her services were needed, at least.

The young woman clad in all black swiftly crossed the river and faced the seemingly-abandoned building. The orange shingles were dull and closer to brown than orange. The windows were without glass and the white walls were covered in ash and dust. The shrubbery around it was overgrown and unkempt, with weeds growing between the gnarled roots.

Solitude went through the empty doorframe. The door that had been there the year before had finally fell off from all three of it’s hinges now. Her too-dark shadow loomed before her, mingling with the other shadows in the sunless room. She could hear the whispers if she strained her eyes. With silent steps, Solitude went to the fireplace. She pulled down her mask and bit the pad of her thumb hard. In the soot-stained floor she made the mark of the mother.

A arcane buzz vibrated through the air as the blood sunk into the dark than black wood. Sol pulled her mask back over her face and crawled into fireplace to only fall a short distance down to a even darker place. Her dark vision— thanks be to Mother Meness— kicked in. In the darkness, her thumb healed. Solitude’s booted feet led her through the maze without her having to do much thinking. It was all instinct, which was a good thing. Solitude tended to overthink and second-guess herself into the traps that littered the maze. Like last year when she—
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“Welcome, Sister Solitude.” Solitude saw the owner of the voice’s hair before she registered that it was Xasca.

Still have you on gate duty, huh?” She was careful to step over Xasca’s long white hair. It was rumored he hadn’t cut it for over three-hundred years. It was also rumored if one got tired of life that they would step on his pristine locks.. Xasca said nothing and unsheathed his sword.

“Have you brought a proper offering?” Solitude was thankful her mask could hide her scowl. You bring one bad offering one time and everyone acts like you’re an idiot.

Yeah, yeah,” From a place behind her, Solitude held up a small burlap sack and shook it around. “Three molars from my highest ranking contracts and three aggayu hearts, for my sister and shadowkin.” Xasca looked down at their sword.

“Your blood is required as well.”

Obviously.” Solitude stepped towards Xasca, still careful about his spider-silk hair, and dropped the sack in front of him and then gave him her open palm. He first inspected the sack, missing Sol roll her crimson eyes. Without warning, he moved and in the next secon his back was towards her as he raised his crimson-stained steel towards the large, ornate doors behind him. Xasca was quick, Sol didn’t even register the sword slicing her open palm, much less see the elf move. Every year his speed surprised her. She looked down at her palm.

Slowly, the wound began to close.

The gates slowly began to open. Solitude could hear the whispers inside, could feel her sister’s and the shadow-fox Celosia’s excitement. Every year they looked forward for this day. The greasy, oily feeling in Solitude’s gut intensified. A minor discomfort.

But her sister needed to be purged. All their siblings needed to be purged from the light during the brightest month of the year.

When Xasca turned back towards Sol, he handed her back her sack of goodies for the Mother. She took it, and just in case, shook the sack to make sure Xasca hadn’t screwed her over.

“Remember to—“

Xasca, dude, I know. To the alter, I get it.” Solitude groaned. Xasca’s face was indifferent as he moved aside. He wiped his sword along his white robes, recording another assassin from the Church who had arrived. Solitude moved between the dark doors, impossibly thick and heavy and claustrophobic. Her heart was beating fast in her chest and she walked faster as if the doors would shut and crush her.

When she was through the corridor, a large and wide domed room greeted her.

Obsidian tiled-floors reflected the other assassins that walked upon it while the obsidian pillars seemed to hold up the shadowy ceiling. At the very center of the room was a statue of Mother Meness and her three daughters dancing beneath her feet. Silver light filtering through the highest point of the domed ceiling caused the obsidian art to shine and shimmer like black ice under a moonlit sky. Various round tables stood around the room without rhyme or reason; some held food while others held drinks. Scattered about were a few obsidian benches and chairs, though it seemed few were taking to them right now.

Pale white arcane light from lamps hanging around the wall or pillars caused the darkvision to dissipate slightly. The corners of the room were completely sheathed in a curtain of black, which Solitude supposed was for the shy assassins of the Church.

First thing was first, give her offering to Mother. Then grab some food. She was early this year. The ceremony wouldn’t begin until twilight chased the sun down to the sea.

Surrounding the statue was a series of silver platters with lavender-smelling incense between the platters to keep the scent of decay to a minimum. Solitude opened her sack, pulled out the three molars and placed them on a platter filled with teeth— in between the severed ears and tongues platters- and walked around until she found the hearts platter. She tossed the hearts onto the others, wiping her hand on her pants. Close by, on one of those awkwardly placed tables, was a wash-bowl and a wooden box to keep the seedy burlap sack in.

[Xasca art cred]
 
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Before the altar of offerings stood Diaz, his sack of meat to give hung low at his side. He pulled two ears, three teeth, and a tongue. Each thunked, clinked, and squelched into the proper receptacle. He lowered his head and uttered a prayer to the mother and her daughters. Next came the hearts and livers of beasts. Those too slapped wet against the other offerings, and he again bowed his head, and said his words to the figures that loomed over them all.

He turned away from the altars of giving, and the silver platters, thick tendrils of smoke wisped and curled about him as he moved across the obsidian floor. His shadow there in the mirror finish. Its mouth open and wide and hungry as it snapped and shook. Excited to be amidst so many of its kind.

Diaz licked the blood from his fingers. Rubbed the gums of his own molars with the old iron tang, and tossed the spent sack of offerings in the box.

"Early this year," he said to the fellow D ranked assassin. He didn't look at her though, and the hackles of his shadow's nape stood and spiked and flared as its long strange maw bared pointed black teeth in across the mirror. "Saw you only had three kills," he grinned wide and toothy. "All E Ranks,"
 
"Quantity isn't everything," Abandon purred from behind the two of them. She was sitting cross-legged atop a nearby table, and had been for some time. It wasn't her intention to sneak up on her fellow assassins. Just force of habit. "Perhaps if you were more... patient... Diaz, you might be given a target higher than D-rank... hm?"

Her single (sentient, anyway...) offering was already placed at the shrine. The green, globular eye of Lord Amarant Lyndon, who was a staunch Celestialist and had frankly a paranoid number of holy magic wielding guards at his disposal. Exept it hadn't been paranoia at all, because the Church had him marked for months. Before she was able to get close enough to make the kill.

Abandon went back to doing what she had been doing before she'd spoken up. Which was picking surreptitiously at the scraps of chicken left on a leg bone.

Solitude Diaz
 
"Abandon. It isn't proper to instigate your Brother."

A tall, slender figure had arrived at the massive dome-like room only moments after Solitude. Soft footsteps brought Love from the darkness into the arcane glow of the lamps that hung from the obsidian ceiling like stars in the night sky. Blood still ran from one of his pale arms, and the mess of black hair on his head clashed with the pallor flesh intensely.

"If you all stopped worrying about how many kills all the others were or weren't getting, you'd be up for Priesthood already." Love mused, not mentioning that he himself had been bestowed such an honor not very long ago as he looked down at the offering cradled in both of his arms. It seemed to be the naked body of a human male, deceased, his throat neatly slit and the Mark of the Mother carved into his chest. The most disturbing thing about the corpse that Love brought to offer Mother, however, was the wide smile of joy upon its cold, dead lips. "Mother Menessa cares not for our competition, but only that we continue to serve her dutifully. That you've arrived here at the proper time is enough, regardless of your rank."

Typical of Love, to extol the virtues of Menessis instead of trying to converse with any sense of ordinary cadence. The strange man hummed to himself as he slowly walked past the others, the vague shape of a shadow clinging tightly to his hip like a child to its father. He lay the body in front of the offering table, not wishing to disrespect his kin by moving their already placed gifts.

"May you be pleased with this offering, Mother. And may the soul of this heretic find peace in a new vessel without the taint of sin and lies."
 
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From her place in the shadows, Yarrow watched as the others took turns out-talking each other. Diaz. Abandon. Love. Even sweet Sol Sister herself. How long had it been since she had seen them all last? Months, to be sure. Long enough to forget what their squabbling sounded like.

Lolling back into the divan's plush cushions, the pale she-orc took to "counting stars" as Love went to make his offering to Mother. No doubt he had brought her something juicy this time around, something more than tongues and eyes and ears and fingers. He tended to.

Yarrow's own offerings had been the usual: a half-dozen thumbs -taken from the right hand, of course- and the heart of a mountain lion. Easy pickings, some would have called them, but some could get fucked. She had put her work in, pulled off contracts dangerous enough to warrant sending a C-ranker. Wasn't that enough?

Stretching, Yarrow stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. Though she did not wish it, the smell of food was starting to make her hungry, and watching Abandon eat was no fun. No fun at all.

Clambering to her feet, Yarrow made her way over to join her... friends. Her Shadowkin walked with her, a dark reflection in the tiles beneath her feet. Picking up a pasty on the way, Yarrow plopped herself down on the table next to Abandon, nearly upsetting a flagon of wine in the process.

''Sup?' She said, forgoing the normal greetings in favour of a nibble.

Solitude Diaz Abandon Love
 
Click-scree click-scree click-scree

The regular rhythm filled the quiet of his office. The tap of the cane, followed by his boot dragging across the stone floor.

The two people already in the room, Orderly Rain and Orderly Loiter were silent. Each of them managed to give their silence its own particular quality.

Orderly Rain was an empty, vacant silence. Patience. A weight that would take a great force to move, but an even greater one to stop.

Orderly Loiter managed to convert a nervous, fidgety sort of energy even as she stood stock still. The dark elf could make even a hardened assassin nervous with a single smile. Which was, Brackard supposed, why she was so effective at her job.

He finally completed the arduous take of cross the room to sit at his desk. Orderly Rain, the half-ogre brute, took a heavy key from around his neck and opened the solid safe to retrieve his paperwork.

Inquisitor Cain had reports from far and wide to read. Most assumed that he was only interested in internal affairs, when in fact he pulled on many strands to further the goals of the church with less direct means.

Some also assumed they were beyond his sight when they left this building. They, too, were wrong.

"Lots of 'em about downstairs," Loiter said.

"Indeed," Cain agreed.

"Watch 'em as usual?" She asked.

"Of course," Cain agreed. Not many people could read, but for his job it was necessary. He filed through two new parchment, his beady eyes fixed on the scrawl of ink.

"What we looking for?" Rain asked. His voice was like a landslide.

"Why Ordlery Rain," Cain said, looking up from the desk. "The same thing we always watch for."

"Heresy."
 
Solitude glared at Diaz. Ugh, this guy, again? If Solitude didn’t know better she’d think Diaz had a crush on her with how he always seemed to be following her around. Just like a dog to have his nose right up her ass. Just as she was going to retort, it seemed the others joined. She hadn’t even seen Abandon, but then again, that was normal. Is that what she looked like? Sol couldn’t ever remember, it seemed every year she looked different than the last. But then again, Solitude had never been that great with memory. And of course, Love, the show off, had to bring a whole body in. She was surprised he didn’t salivate all over the Mother’s and Daughter’s toes.

No wonder why Xasca double-checked her offerings. At least Diaz brought paltry offerings like she did while Abandon and Love were doing the Mother’s work. Not her fault she forgot about them until the last minute.

The only one that Solitude was glad to see was Yarrow.

I just want you all to know, I had more than three missions this year. And not all were E-rank, dumbass!” Her crimson eyes were staring daggers back at Diaz. “I have officially moved up to D-rank!” It had only taken her how many years? But hey, a promotion was a promotion!

With all the swagger in the world, Sol made her way to Yarrow and Abandon, picking up that wine that almost got spilled all over and finally pulled down her mask to drink directly from it.

Diaz Abandon Love Yarrow Brackard Cain
 
Diaz clicked his teeth, huffed as he looked away from Abandon. Ignored the fox's useless muttering. "I got a C-rank contract, thank you very much," he said to Abandon through gritted teeth, and snatched up a fat slice of dripping pork haunch. Tore into it and pulled it till a hunk of meat ripped right off and hung from his mouth. He scarfed it up with hungry gnashes. Took another big bite.

He looked to Yarrow, as some juicy ham hung from his lips, fat and grease dribbled down his chin, and the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. His nose twitched and his eyes narrowed. Much as he thought Love was a creep, Yarrow just didn't smell right to him. His wolf liked her less. He hungrily gobbled up the big bight of flesh, and swallowed it down.

Yarrow was still better than Sol though.

He ate the last bit of ham with a big bite, and wiped away the grease with the back of his wrist.

"Sup," he shot back to her, his stomach turning as his shadow curled and bared its teeth, shrunk beneath his feet as it was, all bristle haired and feral natured.

Abandon Love Yarrow Brackard Cain
 
Ugh, she hated it when Love lectured her! They were the same damn age, and the same damn rank, and yet he still found ways to act like he was so far above everybody else. Abandon wasn't fooled. She knew exactly how Love felt about competition. Why else had he decided to show off with such a big offering? If everybody brought the whole body, then the ceremony hall would stink so bad, and there wouldn't be any place for people to sit.

It was inconsiderate. Mother Meness wasn't the only holy example they should learn from. One had to remember Her daughters, dancing in harmony at Her feet.

And out of respect of the Daughters, she didn't say anything back to Love. Only scowled at him from her perch on the table, and crawled behind Yarrow when the orc plopped down next to her. Sprawled out on her side, Abandon peeked out from around the bigger woman.

"Eyes up,"
she warned everyone in a low voice. She looked out between strands of her black hair at the room. "The Orderlies are near."

Love Yarrow Diaz Solitude
 
Love felt the rush of adrenaline from providing such a generous offer to his mother wash over his body, seeping into every pore and invigorating him like some wonderful elixir of life. Nothing brought him more joy than to prove himself worthy of Menessis' boons. It was not only that he felt, but also the scorned looks of his contemporaries behind him.

They thought him egotistical, thought him arrogant and self-aggrandizing. That they couldn't feel how deep his love ran for each of them would have been devastating were it not for the knowledge that their bond was forever unbreakable. Love slowly rose from his knees over the body he'd provided, wrapping his arms around himself in something akin to an embrace of self as he turned towards the others and slowly moved towards the drinks with a soft smile upon his lips.

Ah, Yarrow had arrived. She seemed in as good of spirits as ever, as well. Love bowed his head slightly in greeting to the Half-Orc woman, before retrieving a glass of wine for himself and sipping slowly from the glass's edge, eyes trained on her pale skin. "Greetings, Sister Yarrow. It's lovely to see you as well. You look very healthy, I'm glad to see you've received your blessings." Of course, Love recognized that having Orcish ancestry typically granted one a predisposition towards physical fitness, but Yarrow only grew stronger by the year.

Wiping some of the wine from his bottom lip with one thumb, his eyes slide slowly back to Solitude as she announces her promotion. The man's entire face seems to light up at the news, and Love swings himself in her direction, the childlike shadow at his side appearing to run a lap around his feet in excitement. Indeed, for a moment Love himself seems far more alive and awake. "Congratulations, Solitude! You were so very frustrated when last we spoke, I am so pleased that your efforts have bore fruit! It will not be long now before you join me in Priesthood, I'm certain..."

"The Orderlies are near."


Just as quickly as he'd come alive, Love's face went dark once more, the hollow of his eyes returning as he looked towards Abandon, paying mind to her warning. Even one as devout as he was subject to the suspicious whims of the Orderlies. They sought heresy and disobedience like a hound sought meat: without reason or distinction.

"They were bound to arrive eventually. I believe in all of you, though. There is no heresy here for them to find."
 
Yarrow sniffed. Though she had never really minded Diaz as much as some of the others did, his sense of hygiene -or lack thereof- was really starting to grind her gears. Honestly, how hard was it to have a bath every now and then? And his eating habits! Mother have mercy, Yarrow thought, watching with a frown as Diaz devoured a juicy haunch of pork with all the table manners of a rabid dog.

Clearly his Shadowkin had a lot to answer for. Or was it the other way around?

Leaving that thought for another time, Yarrow scooched on over to Abandon's old spot as Sol joined them, leaving the dainty little assassin to face the music. The music of riveting conversation. 'Healthy, ey?' Yarrow asked, greeting Love with a look full of doubt. 'Was that supposed to be a compliment of sorts? If so, you can do better,' she teased, smiling so that he knew she was just teasing.

Another bite of pasty stopped any further words from being bandied. Unfortunately for Yarrow, it was then Abandon decided to mention the Orderlies.

Nearly choking on her food, the Half-Orc coughed into her hand. 'Orderlies, you say?' Why, yes, she did. With a face as dark as Love's, Yarrow turned to Sol, extending a wine glass she had just pilfered from the table behind her. 'Pour, please!'

Diaz Abandon Love Solitude
 
Click-scree click-scree click-scree

Cain walked through the room wearing a pleasant smile. On his face, it was a terrifying expression. The two orderlies walked in his wake.

He didn't need to walk among the returning members of the Church to learn about their travels. Brackard had eyes and ears everywhere.

What was important, was that they knew he existed. A reminder that they were always watched.

He wasn't a cruel man, at least not in his own mind. Prevention was better than having to dig the rot out of the foundations of the church.

"Sister Solitude," he announced without warning as he passed her. He didn't even deign to look over his shoulder.

"I understand congratulations are in order. But I must ask, do you feel others should convey you the respect it deserves when you cannot mind your tongue at our gate?"
 
As much as Solitude wanted to punch Brother Love— and really, at this point, shouldn’t they be calling him Father Love?— it felt wrong. Because all of his words were genuine, weren’t they? Even Solitude, as dense as she was, could tell that he was being earnest when he congratulated her.

Yeah, well, we’ll see. Priesthood means I gotta like, yanno, work hard.” She was already working like a dog, why on Arethil would she want to be like Love?

At least to Love’s benefit, he wasn’t a disgusting pig like Diaz was (yeah, she saw him salivating over that piece of meat like he hadn’t eaten in years.) Dear Mother, if Sol ever had to called Diaz Father Diaz she was hanging herself before the occasion could ever happen.

Solitude waved a hand dismissively at Abandon’s comment about the orderlies. Big deal!

The orderlies are always—“ Solitude felt a uneasy chill to fizzle down her spine, all the translucent hairs on the back of her neck raised in trepidation. Crimson eyes glanced over to see Brackard Cain who didn’t even look at her as he spoke. Well, she deserved it, she supposed, she was known for her mouth more than her accomplishments.

Regardless, Solitude, despite all her bravado with Xasca earlier, was tight-lipped. Celosia laughed, her shadow beneath her feet moving with delight.

Scared, little Solitude?

I’ll show you scared.

Dang, you guys hear that? I sure didn’t!” Solitude said aloud and poured Yarrow a large glass of wine before chugging whatever was left in the bottle.

Diaz Abandon Love Yarrow Brackard Cain
 
I believe in all of you, though. There is no heresy here for them to find."
Dark eyes flicked to 'Father' Love, and she did all she could to keep the scowl off her face. It wasn't that she doubted his faith, it was just that their philosophies were so different. One of them had to be wrong about it all, and it certainly wasn't her.

"We are all born of sin, Love," she retorted.

you really believe that? Came the voice of her shadowkin, soft-spoken and distant. Abandon ignored the cat.

"None of us are free until we've shed enough blood to wash it away."

it'll never be enough.

Annoyed as she was, Abandon didn't move from her spot. She spread out languidly along the table, in between piles of food and flagons of wine. Her head was propped up with one hand. The other hand reached forward and plucked up a slice of fruit from a nearby plate. Chewed at the bitter rind as the scratching cane of the overseer came to a stop, however briefly.

Long enough to drag Sol out into the searing light with a well-placed comment. Then the slow tempo of the cane picked back up again. Gone. But not done watching. The orderlies trailed behind in the way that they did, expressions of ill-pleasure as was individual to them.

Would anyone speak up to defend their dear sister? Abandon certainly wouldn't - she'd done her due diligence with her earlier warning.
 
As Brackard made his way slowly through the chamber, Love's arms fell from embracing himself to falling respectfully to his sides, his eyes falling shut with nary a sound. Any of the orderlies would be hard-pressed to find any chinks in the armor of his own belief, but he was also a measure more self-aware than perhaps his Brothers and Sisters noticed; He knew well that they held far more normality than him, for lack of a better term.

"They're not going to get in trouble, are they? I don't want anybody to get punished!"

A warm, loving smile crossed the slim man's face as he again calmed that childlike innocence lurking within his shadow. Dearest brother, always so concerned with his friends. Such selflessness was a testament to them all. In truth, Brackard may have stopped at the verbal warning, or it could have come with additional future penalty.

In a rather out-of-character act of spontaneity, he spoke.

"It took her some time to reach her milestone. Perhaps we can forgive her... overzealous mouth?"

It was uncommon for Love to speak back towards any position of authority, but his newfound Priesthood offered him the slightest leniency; He could speak, but pushing it too far would be trouble even for him. He needed to be tactful and respectful, so that his defense could not be misconstrued as defiance or heresy.

Love moved to stand beside Solitude and Yarrow, eyes, open only to slits as he peered into Solitude's gaze. "What matters most is that she shows respect and grace in the presence of our Mother, and she has done just that with her offerings and her hard work towards the new ranking she has been given."

With one hand, he reached out and took one of Solitude's shoulders, turning his head to the still away-facing Brackard.

"As my Sister Abandon just said, we are all born of sin, and none of us have been cleansed of it entirely. I am proud of my Sister despite her brazenness."
 
Never late but never quite on time, Celerity strolled into the hall shortly after Brackard and his orderlies, dragging a heavily stained burlap sack. Fresh blood trailed behind her. Bright pink eyes glowed from behind her mask.

Quietly humming to herself, she approached the offering table and began arranging her gifts into a rather creative display. Three bodiless heads and a plethora of other, smaller body parts. None related to one another.

As always it was unclear how, or rather when, Celerity had acquired anything to offer. Her talents in healing had higher-ups encourage her not to take contracts quite often as those she now stood with often found themselves in need of a healer- something she appeared to agree with, seeing as she was never not available for use.

Satisfied with her…arrangement she quietly sauntered over, just behind Solitude and Love.

Quite honestly, Celerity had no idea what they were on about. It wasn’t her problem. But congratulations were in order, and so she would gently peel Love’s hand off of her shoulder and pull the girl into a tight embrace before letting go. “Well done, Sister.” Her cheeks would be visible past the sides of her mask when she smiled, giving the girl her idea of ‘encouraging words’. “I hope to see you less and less.”
 
That would be a first, Yarrow thought, hiding her smirk behind her half-eaten pasty. Forgiveness was not in the Orderlies' nature. It was their job to watch for heresy, after all, and to mete out punishment should any of the family be found... wanting. Fortunately, the Half-Orc's loyalty to Mother had never wavered nor was it ever likely to. Unless...

No, no, bad Yarrow! Bad!

Taking a sip of her wine, she nodded to Cain as he passed the group by. Unblinking eyes shifted to regard the two lackeys dogging his steps. No nod for them, the she-orc thought, smiling to herself. She never could tell whether the two were loyal to Mother or to Brother Brackard. Both, she assumed?

'Enough of that, Love,' Yarrow spoke up, finishing off her pasty with a few big bites. Chasing it down with some wine, she said, 'Got me feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. And no, Abandon, it's not just the food.' Leaning back, she placed an arm on the other side of Abandon's outstretched legs as Sister Celerity joined them. 'Say, got any more?'
 
Dang, you guys hear that? I sure didn’t!” Solitude said aloud
What matters most is that she shows respect and grace in the presence of our Mother, and she has done just that with her offerings and her hard work towards the new ranking she has been given.

With one hand, he reached out and took one of Solitudes shoulders, turning his head to the still away-facing Brackard.

As my Sister Abandon just said, we are all born of sin, and none of us have been cleansed of it entirely. I am proud of my Sister despite her brazenness.

Inquisitor Cain remained where he stood. He turned his head to look at Priest Love and then sister Solitude. He looked like a hawk that had spotting a mouse in the open field. Harsh angular features catching the light. He looked down his crooked nose, broken in several places - as most of his body had been.

"All will do well to remember that no matter their station, that Menessis can always see them and they should guard their behaviour."

He placed both hands on his cane, lifting the tip a few inches from the ground and slamming it back down. The tap rang out around the room.

"Brother Faith..." Brackard called out. While the focus had been on Solitude, Orderly Loiter had moved to guard one exit whilst Orderly Rain had closed on Faith.

"...we have some questions."

The young, devout assassin turned around and looked up at the gruesome visage that Rain presented.

"But...but of course," replied Faith.

Cain hadn't reminded them that Menessis had eyes and ears everywhere. He was reminding them that the Inquisition did. Only the Mother herself could avoid their judgement if there was a case to be answered.

"Enjoy your meal," Cain said softly, turning on his heel and leaving. Faith followed him, the two orderlies in his wake.
 
Tall and lanky, Loiter was already at the door. Diaz huffed, turned his head away and took a drink from his cup as he glowered. Let his eyes fall.

Fuckin Orderlies.

'Brother faith...'

Diaz took another drink. as the exchange took place. His eyes flicked up to Loiter. Was she still there? No. Gone. He turned about and sat against a table of meat pies. The roil of hunger he felt around his brothers and sisters, diminished some.

He picked up a pie and took a big bite.

Looked like he still had some days left then.

A piece of meat plopped out of the broken shell of pastry crust.
 
"My offer is still open..."

Demise denied Xasca the satisfaction of getting so much as a glance out of her at his soft, inappropriate whisper as he pushed the doors open for her. Instead she chose to ignore it - ignore him - entirely. She had no desire to be served her sisters sloppy seconds, though the thought of how he might look with his own hair wrapped about his neck was tempting.

Mother, forgive my thoughts.

As soon as the gap was wide enough Demise strode through into the awaiting chamber. Her eyes instantly slid to the darker corners at the back where she knew at least two of her sisters would already be stationed; neither of them enjoyed the idea of socialising particularly. She couldn't say she blamed them, but she was so very close to being promoted. If it took a little rubbing of elbows with the others she could stomach it. She could already see Bishop Innocence, perhaps she would be the best place to start...

Despite her impatience her steps were evenly paced; she didn't want to get it into the fool elf's mind she hurried to be away from him and neither did she wish for the few Bishop's in attendance to think her not paying the due respect to the reason they were gathered here. Once she reached the alter she placed the perfect woman who had been cradled in her arms along one of the marble slabs not yet taken. Demi took great care in how she was lowered, supporting the woman's still bulging pregnant belly so that it did not tip her to the side. Neatly, she folded the mothers hands over her swollen belly where her unborn child would rest forevermore. Bowing her head she sat in contemplation, reciting the prayer to the Mother, before rising to seek out some of the communion wine.
 
As the assassins continued congregating, a loud door swing could be heard, followed by obtrusive plate-clad footsteps. Today, these loud footsteps were accompanied by a bang and the shifting sounds of a cape.

"Hi, Xasca. Your hair is as nice to look at as ever." The voice was loud and boisterous, its smooth swell filling the dark air within.

It was Valor, clad in his usual plate armor, soaked in blood, with splashes on his face, licking back a portion of his silver hair. Despite his grotesque state of dress, a beaming smile and excited gaze appeared on his face. Clutched underneath his was what looked like a heart the size of a small child wrapped in burlap.

"Brothers and sisters, you will never guess what I found during my escort mission." His spirits were as high as ever. He waved with an unoccupied hand to everyone in the room, saluting the superior members and addressing them with politeness.

"Vicar. Good to see you. And what an exciting gift. I hope Mother likes mine." He said, giving Demise a wave.

"Hello, Mother. It's Valor and Violence. This was the only heart I could salvage, unfortunately. I did get a bit...carried away with the other trolls. Anyways, this mission I was on turned out to be a lot more exciting than we anticipated." He proceeded to the Altar, kneeling in reverence and uttering a prayer under his breath, rising afterward and placing the heart beside the other gifts. Once the offering was placed, he continued going about his time since his last visit and all the exciting bits of all his missions since then.
 
Solitude said little else when it came to the Inquisitor. Why Cain had decided to pick on her out of everyone, she had no idea. He could’ve told Diaz to go take a bath, or tell Abandon not to lay out like a cat all over the table, or maybe to— hair the color of spring blooms distracted Sol long enough to get out of her angry thoughts.

Yanno, I’m starting to think the only two people who like me in here is Love and Yarrow.” Solitude said, looking at Celerity with a raised brow. Like Celerity didn’t like Sol’s weekly visits. She leaned over to the pink-headed assassin and whispered, perhaps a bit too loudly, “You think when I get the coin, you can make my tits huge?” She slapped her chest, showcasing how she was made of muscle and hard contours.

Years of training had led to her filling out not giving her the results she hoped for. She had been tall and lanky as a teen and now she was tall and lanky but with muscle. Solitude wished she had filled out in other places that wasn’t just her shoulders or arms.

I wanna jump and make all the men in here break their necks to look back at me.” Sol laughed maniacally, raising up the bottle as she giggled like a gremlin. “Ooh, or if I was smokin’ hot, then I wouldn’t have to sneak around. Could just seduce all my kills and bam! I win!” Some of the wine dribbled out, splashing onto Yarrow’s thigh.

Whoops.” Languidly, Sol absently patted away the damp on her comrade’s pants. “See, if I had huge knockers, then everyone would have found that sexy just now.” Solitude ignored Celosia’s lecturing in her head. Blah blah blah, all that shadowkin was good for was droning on and on and on…. “Oh, I guess that’s true.” Solitude mumbled aloud, looking down at her shadow— or where her shadow should be.

Maybe Celosia could share some words of wisdom.

Okay, so maybe I’ll put a pin on that, Cel, but I tell you what I do need. I have fat fingers. Can you make my fingers skinnier?

Celerity Yarrow Love Abandon
 
Love didn't live up to his namesake as he watched the orderlies lead Faith away from the chamber. On the contrary, the Priest's face looked downright morose for a moment. There were some members of their Church who took pride weeding out any hint of remote dissent, no matter how questionable or coincidental. It was one of the few policies Love did not agree with. Unfortunately, there was nothing that he could do for Brother Faith now.

Whether anybody else realized it or not, Faith was very likely a message to Love himself-- The Orderlies way of showing him that while he could protect those closest to him, others would suffer in their stead. Poor Faith was one of the most devout Love had met. The unfortunate soul's position may very well have been Solitude's if he'd said nothing.

It was a gut-wrenching feeling, but Love spent far too much time wearing a mask to show it too obviously.

Even so, his smile had faded by the time Yarrow and Solitude's words made it to his ears, and he gave a small shake of his head, gaze going sharp as he looked at the woman he'd just defended, now speaking of such trivial matters. It disappointed him, that she could so callously ignore what had just happened.

She took his love for granted.

"Solitude."


The careless and jovial tone that always carried his voice had vanished, and her name was spoken as though it were some disgusting expletive on his tongue as The Priest now stared down at the drinking woman where she sat jabbering meaningless nonsense like a small animal through a curtain of black and beaded eyes.

"Brother, you're getting angry. Please calm down... Not right now."

It was difficult to hear Innocence in his head over the distant screams of Brother Faith, however loud he pleaded. No, there would be no calming down. Actions have consequences, and Love now saw that his sister had yet to truly learn that fact of life.

One of his hands lowered slowly, coming to rest on Solitude's head. His long fingers pressed tightly against her scalp, and his lips curled into a sneer as he knelt in front of her to match her sitting height.

"If you anger them again, your fingers and breasts will be the least of your concerns. Next time, I will not plea for mercy in your stead. It will be you that is screaming somewhere off in the distance." His grip tightened, "I implore you remember that, Sister. When you next come to this place, you will hold your tongue, or I will take it."

His hand released its grip on her and dropped to his side, and the anger on his face quickly melted into that same warm smile he'd been wearing just moments earlier. The message had been delivered, though it was unlikely Solitude would ever view him as a friendly figure again.

That was fine, as long as she was allowed to live. Her health meant more than what she thought of him.

"Okay?"

He stood up and dusted his palms on his long coat, pursing his lips curiously as more arrivals filed in. Valor, Demise, and Celerity were here. Demise had brought not one full living souls, but two, one-upping even himself. It brought a smile to his face as he again embraced himself around the waist as though nothing had happened.

"Getting rather crowded, isn't it?" He mused, sipping on some wine himself. "It's easy to forget how many of us there are when we so rarely cross paths."
 
Screams echoed through the hall. From the distant direction Brackard fucking Cain and his goons had disappeared too.

The others went on about who knows what.

Diaz took another bite of his meat pie.

Fucking orderlies. Fucking Brackard.

Fucking heresy.