Description: A lone priest, stoically striving to atone for past misdeeds. The girl he has taken in, her damaged psyche like a spirit gnawing at her heart. A proven young hero with noble ideals, still seeking to make his world a reality, still with so much to learn. A wandering woman on a spiritual quest, seeking her own path to quell the chaos. Fate and fortune have brought them together. Neither of them alone perceives the whole. So long as they continue to work in concert -- perhaps the darkness will continue to disperse, and Sunshine City will once again shine brightly.
Sunshine City certainly has been quite busy. So much different than even how it was just a few weeks ago when he first arrived and started working on cleaning out the building that would become the second of his shelters. The one in Metro seems to still be doing fine, but there is the unease if the gentleman that tried to abuse his kindness would return and cause more trouble. So far there have been no calls or the like so Elias can only assume that all is well over there so he can still concentrate on his work here.
Not only that there is supposed to be a visitor arriving to meet with him. One of the members of the YFCC and apparently one of the people that helped promote the entire project to get Sunshine City back on its feet. The place is actually pretty empty still at the moment. A few older people are gathered in an area talking and having some food that was prepared by the kitchen while a few teens and younger kids are off playing and just enjoying some fun indoors for once. Watching over all that horseplay is Elias himself. The priest stands there with hands folding behind his back as he gazes over the small group. It looks like they are playing some sort of game of tag where the child that is it is currently wearing a metal crown. The same crown Elias had gotten off the strange invader he had at the Metro City shelter.
Alma Towazu has been quite busy, too.
It seems he cannot help himself. Though he has said he is unprepared to settle now, that he yet has more journeys to undertake and hopes to revel in his momentary ungroundedness, he of course underestimated the draw of the organization he helped to create. When he stood alone atop the Sunshine 60, he knew he did not have to save the world entire, did not need a destiny to be himself. But seeing how much good it is possible to do when a man such as himself strives to unite others under a single banner, even if only fleetingly -- it is difficult, even wrong, to walk away.
Either way, the Risen Phoenix, seeing his world through the sometimes solipsistic lenses of his vibrant aura sight, where the boundaries of people's selves seem to dissolve into insignificance and the ties that bind them together shine brightly, cannot disassociate himself from his community. This is true of the YFCC, of course, and in a way it is true of Sunshine City, or at least he came to believe it was. But it is, more than anything, true of his fellow fighters, of those who struggle passionate with spirits that light the sky. When he heard of this man Elias, the man's conviction and path to redemption stirred him greatly, and though he could not meet him right away, Alma ensured that resources would be devoted to his task. His subordinates were surprised by his instant trust in a stranger, but-- Alma, too, seeks a kind of redemption. A salvation, at least-- the perpetual salvation that is a meaningful and spiritual life.
So as he brushes through the entrance, the tall blond as striking in his lower quarter as much for his fine tailored suit as he is for his scarred beauty, the young Alma stands not merely as a representative of his organization, but as an individual seeking out a kindred spirit.
"Pardon me."
He rises to his full height, the mild-eyed and self-possessed psychic looking toward the redoubtable priest with a polite but sincere smile.
"Might you be Mr. Elias Patrick?"
Courteously, stepping into the shelter, seeming in perfect comfort in his humble surroundings despite his refined appearance, the so-called Radiant Angel bows.
"I am Alma Towazu, of the YFCC. I've come seeking him."
It has been said before, but there is so much life in this city. Few places this overlooked in the grander scheme can boast a population so colourful and determined to survive. There is strife upon the streets, but for every violent or malicious act there is a gesture meant in goodwill - or the simple, ceaseless and admirable striving of a man or woman with a mere will to survive against all odds; and in so doing, provide a better quality of living for those whom they love. Dignity. That's the word which comes to mind.
The youngest of the ancient order of Knights Templar, one Amy Johnson, only came to Sunshine at the beckon call of Southtown's Thrice-Born Hero. His selfless plea to the fighters of the world struck a chord within the heart of the woman, whose path has been selfish of late. Perhaps it has always been too much so. Absorbed within her own concerns, she has laid dormant whilst the problems of the world have passed her by. It was time to change that situation, and so she came and she fought, falling against stronger warriors but winning a small victory for the people of the land. For her, it was more than enough for a new beginning. But that was all it was.
And so the story continues. Her step has since carried her through the streets of the town, and Amy has strived to leave behind her petty doubts and foibles, embarking on the most humble of quests... trying to understand these people, and trying to help them as best she can. As and when she is called to do so. Regardless of the nature of the task, however insignificant it may seem, because sometimes it is the tiniest thing that can make the largest difference. Not every endeavour must mean life, death, or copious reward.
"It hurts! Oh, it hurts!"
Which is precisely why the raven-haired Templar now cradles a young child in her arms, approaching Elias' shelter having carried the hapless boy through the streets of the outer city. All blue eyes and golden locks, the cherubic youngster is wracked with tears and bears a nasty gash upon his leg. The faint drip-drip of escaping blood has marked their route here with a crimson trail, leaving the woman's dark clothes stained in places with much darker patches. She hushes him softly, lifting a hand to smooth back the damp hair from his brow - though careful not to dislodge her beret, which has been loaned as some small comfort to the boy.
"We're here now... it's okay. What did you say the man's name was?"
Her tone is gentle and kind, and her charge glances up at her with a brave sniffle as they approach the door of the building - still left open behind the defacto leader of the YFCC. The name that follows, it's one she recognises.
"F-Father Elias..."
Father Elias Patrick. She had thought to seek him out based on word of his good deeds in Metro City, but her wanderings have kept her from these doors until now. Smiling as she passes through the threshold, Amy raises those stormy blue eyes to take in the interior of the shelter, her lips parting in silent surprise as she finds herself face-to-back with Towazu himself. "Oh..." She does nothing more to draw attention to herself, content to stand and await her turn at an audience - though there is no hiding her intrigue as she looks between the two men before her. Their auras alone are disquieting.
The boy, however, holds no such compunction.
"Father Elias!"
The attention to the priest shifts from watching the children play towards the entrance proper. He turns and approaches the man to soon find out his identity. "Ahh, so we finally meet." he says in a rather calm and even tone. He unclasps his hands and he rests his right one over his chest as he gives a small bow in return. "Welcome to my shelter. May I get you anything?" he asks while turning and motioning to an area with a few seats that are gathered around a television that is currently off.
He too was about to head in that general direction when there seems to be more visitors. One would be a young boy that often comes in for food, but the other is not so familiar. His attention shifts to the boy as he kneels down to look at where he was hurt. "You know where to go upstairs. Get that taken care of then you can go play with the others." One might think the kid would be scared to death of that face. One that doesn't really show much emotion beyond a very stern expression and eyes that are hidden by shades he even wears indoors.
The boy is sent on his way and Elias straightens back up fully. "Thank you for bringing him here. May I help you at all, miss?" he asks while stepping forward. Alma is a guest, but alas if this woman is here for business or the like it must be tended to first.
Alma's smile certainly seems genuine despite his poise, but the look in his eyes is enigmatic, if not nearly as obscure as that which is hidden behind Elias's shades. There will be a moment in which the young phoenix does not seem to be looking at the priest directly, even if he is still focusing intently -- gazing thoughtfully almost at the air about the charitable churchman. Yes, this is a man who too has suffered for his sins, and risen above them. A strong man, a noble one. The moment passes, and Alma's hazel eyes, though partially occluded by a stray ruby-tinged bang, meet Elias's directly as he nods once. "Thank you kindly," he says softly. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance at last, Mr. Patrick. I appreciate your offer, but I would not dare come to ask anything of you. I only want to reaffirm the YFCC's pledge of support to your shelter here. I heard of your excellent work in Metro City, and your desire to expand here came at a most fortituous time. I do not want to let such an opportunity to do well by Sunshine pass us by."
Smoothly, he slips a bronzed hand into his breast pocket.
"In fact, I would like to propose a full--"
The Scarred Beauty of Southtown is inelegantly interrupted by a bawling child. There is a rare flustered moment as the ex-model halts, his long eyelashes batting as his lips part but no words dare emerge, before he turns. Alma is interrupted every day at the YFCC; young children care not for powerful presences at times. What truly arrests him is the combination of the surprise with the unusual aura that accompanies it. He meets the eyes of the dark-haired woman, silent, still appearing vaguely startled.
~ Who...? ~
"Oh..." Without protest, he steps aside, moving farther into the shelter. Elias is a man of set priorities. Alma, of course, respects that. He holds off on speaking further, but does not, perhaps cannot, look away from the strange woman. Something about her spirit is more than stirring. Her aura is not potent, it is true, but-- that stormy flow is unique. There is great potential there, and an unusual tale, he is certain.
All manner of interesting individuals seem to be showing themselves these days.
Children can be very single-minded, and this one does not shift his attention from the reformed priest until he is spoken to, watching the man with widened yet respectful eyes. It is noted by Amy and perhaps by the reborn Phoenix as well - Elias is loved and admired by this boy. He only struggles a little as the Englishwoman sets him down, and does pause to wrap his arms around her in a brief hug that seems to discomfort her slightly. But she returns it nonetheless, straightening with a slight flush upon her cheeks as she waves her ward off. He seems content to make it the rest of the way himself, adjusting the beret that sits still atop his head as he half-limps, half-scampers up the stairs.
And then Amy turns back to face Father Patrick, the hint of a wry smile showing through the momentary embarassment as she runs a hand along her temple, tucking a sweep of long, dark hair behind one ear as he addresses her. She gauges him as he speaks, her feelings somewhat difficult to discern as she watches him with a lingering, intelligent gaze - sweeping down his length as though searching for something.
"I..." The Templar pauses, meeting the implacably dark, twinned void of Elias' sunglasses. Her hesitation does not seem to carry fear or uncertainty, and when she speaks again it is with a touch of regret, as though she does not want to admit her purpose. "I simply came to perform a good deed, Father." Not that she appears to be lying, either, rather the sudden lowering of her gaze suggests she feels some humility before this man. A hand lifts to brush past the upper hem of her undershirt, fingertips straying to the simple silver cross about her neck.
"Although," she looks up and smiles, "I have heard tales of your own deeds, and I had intended to come offering my services - sooner, rather than later. It seems I've caught you in a busy moment, however." Her hands come together at her breast, flat together with fingers extended, as she inclines her head respectfully. At the lowest point, her gaze strays to Alma, his own spark of interest stirring a quite visible hesitation from the woman before she gathers herself and finishes, "Should I come back another time?"
She only half rises from the bow, her attention wavering between the two men as if seeking approval from both. There is no further movement made to leave... because she likely does not want to. Both Elias and Alma interest her greatly, even if pride prevents her lobbying for their attention. But perhaps to the handsome psychic, her soul will betray her.
Elias is quiet and rather patient as he listens to Amy. He takes a few moments to consider and he looks back to Alma for a brief moment. "Do you mind another guest?" he asks as he sidesteps so he can look between the two and not stand in the way. "We were just about to sit down and talk. If you wish to stay here and wait for when we are done that is all right as well, miss." He leaves the decision if she wishes to stay or go right up to herself. She seems to be no threat from what he can tell so he will let her stays if she wishes.
He does let his attention shift away from her as he starts to walk back towards where Alma is. "I am sorry for that interruption. "I believe you were about to propose something?" he asks while letting his hands clasp behind his back again as he regards the younger man. He does spar a glance back towards Amy and he does give a nod as if motioning her to come on over as well if she wishes. No reason for her to just stand there at the entrance looking silly afterall.
It'd been quiet and all the other children had been outside playing, a perfect day, so Alice had set herself in a window of the office to read while still being close enough to hear and see the other kids playing outside. The tome she had in her hands was an old and well used copy of Grimms' fairy tales. The dark and violent stories within causing not even the hint of emotion one way or another as she read them. This is of course, the point at which the young injured boy came into the room looking for things to clean and bandage his wound. Upon seeing him Alice quietly got down from her perch and left the room not even looking at him as she passed.
Plodding downstairs her booted feet thudding hollowly against each step as she slowly makes her way down it, Alice stops dead three quarters of the way down the stair as she notes the guests near Elias, her half lidded eyes widdening for half a second before she finishes walking down the stairs. Making sure to keep Elias between herself and the guests the violet haired girl quietly asks, "Shall I prepare some tea Father...for the guests?" All the while stealing glaces at the strangers but refusing to look either of them in the eye as she does so.
This world is full of opportunities -- and distractions.
"Oh, ah, yes," the normally composed young man begins, realizing all at once he has been rudely staring at the dark-haired Templar, and modestly folding his hands at his waist as though in a kind of penance through decorum. He is about to continue, but Alma promptly hesitates again, glancing at the mysterious older woman, his gaze likely inscrutible once more. That aura of hers-- even if he knows nothing of her nature or purpose, he should not let her go, let her slip by. He is not an opportunistic person by nature. But those possessed with a true sense of urgency, no matter how inward-turned, know intuitively when it is necessary to reach out.
The benefits of just living in such a way, to say nothing of the possibility of success, outweigh the risks of failure.
"Actually, Miss, please join us," he says gently, inclining his head toward Amy. "If you came to offer your services, then my proposal concerns you as well." Particularly given her obvious spirit. "I am Alma Towazu, nominal leader of the YFCC and host of the recent Asahishoubu event here in Sunshine City," he reintroduces himself. "I ensured that my organization would be of aid in supporting Mr. Patrick in the construction of his shelter here in Outer Sunshine, having heard of his commitment to aiding the unfortunate and distressed. But as the YFCC expands its service outside the borders of Southtown itself, I hope to connect with resources already available within the city and with people already familiar with it, so that natural allies might join forces for the good of the city and never work at cross-purposes." This was his strategy in his international expedition to Taizhou, as well. He turns back to the shades-clad exorcist and inclines his head deferentially. "Mr. Patrick, I have come to ask you to join our organization."
He spreads his hand to gesture at the room about them. "The shelter should remain autonomous, of course, and I would ask nothing more of you other than what you already seek to do. But I would seek your advice and assistance in learning best how to serve the people of Sunshine, and I cannot always work on the ground here myself. In return, the YFCC will be able to provide you with resources, volunteers, and fundraising capabilities." He smiles again, his pitch finished. "Please think it over... I hope you will... accept..."
He trails off a little, blinking as a girl walks steadily down the stairs. Alma's really going to seem like the easily distracted type at this point. His expression is different this time, though. The phoenix actually looks--
"...Who...?"
--unsettled.
"Um, who..." He clears his throat, glancing back to Elias. Though the scarred beauty has politely restrained himself from expressing it more obviously, his moment of discomfort was obvious, and telling. "Pardon me, Mr. Patrick, but if I may ask, who is this girl?"
The Templar is perhaps more formal than she needs to be in such company, and though her deference toward Elias is invoked in part by her religious ties, with Alma Towazu there is no such link. But even as sheltered from the affairs of fighters as she has been, the woman has heard of him through more than just her own minor involvement with Asahishoubu. His passion is fast becoming legend alongside his fighting skill, though to look upon him is another matter entirely. But look she does, all the more intently once the invitation is extended by both men and accepted with a grateful smile.
Amy veers closer as Alma delivers his eloquent speech, his pitch, her movements not lacking confidence as such - though falling slow and therefore near silent as she places herself between the two men and a step back, affording her an open view of them both. But her attention remains upon the Phoenix for the duration, lingering about his person as she is earlier examined Elias; and more again, particularly when her dark eyes find the scarred portion of his otherwise beautiful visage. She cannot help but stare, and she does not seem to hide it, her expression stoic and unreadable as she listens in silence.
Her gaze only draws away when Alice makes herself known, Alma's question coming as her own eyebrow arches with the same intent toward Father Patrick. She, however, quickly has her focus back upon the girl, favouring her with a courteous nod. "Some tea would be lovely," she speaks clearly in reply, directly to the priest's unsettling charge, "Thank you. I could help, if you'd like?" She does not comprehend the unease that Alma displays, perhaps writing it off as some quirk of the model's, and turns back to address him as she begins a subtle movement toward the younger Brit.
"I cannot speak for the Father, but I've been to the YFCC. I met one of your senior instructors, and we spoke for a time. It was," she pauses, and then laughs - it is not loud but it is bright, an approving sound of good humour, "Enlightening. Beyond that, I've heard of your other accomplishments. Even if this shelter was not to become a part of your organisation, Mr. Towazu, I would be honoured to place myself at both your disposals."
Now that it seems no more people are coming into the shelter Elias is allowed to give Alma his full attention as the young man makes the offer to get Elias to join the YFCC and team up with them. It is hard to tell how much he is mulling it over given that expression has yet to change since either person has met him. One has to wonder if that stern look is just permanent. He lets Amy speak as well on her thoughts about the group and he just gives a slight nod. "Mr. Towazu, while I appreciate the offer I must decline."
A surprising choice? But before Alma can say anything that might be in protest or disappointment, Elias continues. "While I do appreciate the offered position I prefer to work independently." Is it a bit of a trust issue? He supposes there always is. Perhaps he considers this something he has to do on his own to repent for past sins. "However, I do not mind helping if you ever need me. It is the least I could do for the help you have given here."
That is when the discussion pauses just a moment when Alice shows up. "Good afternoon, Ms. Carrol. I am sure our guests would love some." he tells her before looking back to both Amy and Alma, though the latter gets a longer look. It seems the younger man can sense what is wrong. The priest just mouths 'another time in private' to Alma before he motions to the young girl. "This is Alice Carrol. Alice, this here is Mr. Towazu. The man that helped us get this shelter open." He then looks to Amy. "Miss, I am sorry, but I don't believe I managed to get your name."
"Right away Father." Alice's quiet voice is cool and soft barely above a whisper as she is introduced she still refuses to look them in the eye but gives Alma a small curtsey, and nods her head slightly to Amy despite having no proper introduction.
However, as the two guests focus on her, Alice withers slightly under the attention her appearance has gained her, particularly the unsettled look Alma gives her, she trembles slightly almost unnoticible against the ridgidness her body has suddenly taken on as she takes a slow step back from everyone trying to put Elias between her and Alma's gaze. This, however, puts her fully into Amy's line of sight and she pauses like a deer caught in the headlights of car as the woman speaks to her.
She is quiet for an awkwardly long moment stuck in the open as Amy's offer to help hangs in the air, "No." Alice's voice is monotone and quiet but there is a cold finality to her response as the girl starts to turn away to go prepare drinks and make her temporary escape from this unpleasant situation she turns her head over her shoulder and mutters a very soft, "....thankyou." A violet eye peeking out from beneath her bangs as she looks at Amy.
Meanwhile Alma's unique sight is granting him a very unique sight of Alice, her body bathed in dull purple light with little black splotches throughout, suddenly a number of the splotches pool together forming eyes, a nose, a mouth, and finally a face which pulls away slightly from the girl's body and glares daggers at Alma, looking mildly like a desicated corpse, it licks its lips hungrily at him. As the other splotches suddenly ooze outward into a number of tenticles that systematically begin flaying Alice's skin and flesh from her bones....to which the girl doesn't even seem to notice. Then it's back to the purple light and black splotches again...
Compeleting her turn away from the Father and his guests Alice makes a quick retreat into the kitchen to prepare a cup for each of them on a tray, and to get the kettle and water properly heated...happy to be away from the attentive strangers' gazes for a few moments.
Alma inclines his head to Alice as well, his usually mild eyes wide. He unfocused slightly when gazing at Elias and Amy; his eyes seem almost sightless now. It is all he can do to prevent his body from trembling. He has faced those with terrible darknesses in their hearts, faced yawning abysses. He has thrust the light of his very being into the endless maw of Vega's black heart; he has faced the dark coils of Yamazaki's terrible rage made manifest. But this innocent-seeming girl -- she is not responsible. She could not be responsible for the darkness that seems to possess her. Every evil he has faced, every terrifying aura, he made sense of, and was thereby unafraid to face it unflinchingly.
This-- makes no sense at all.
This is wrong, wronger even than a person choosing evil.
Alma swallows, a long moment stretching as, despite his eyes flickering to Elias and catching the man's signal, he clearly struggles to regain his poise. He clears his throat softly, straightening, realizing that this priest must know, that there is nothing Alma can do here.
"I..."
This child seems both victim /and/ threat.
"I understand."
The righteous youth is unsure how to process that.
"I had hoped to affiliate ourselves directly, but of course, you have your own way of doing things, sir." He inclines his head politely, hiding his disappointment and, now that he's gotten over Alice, seemingly unruffled. "I may come to seek your advice in the future regarding Sunshine City's needs; I am inexperienced in these matters, and want to ensure I am of service. In return, please feel free to seek out the YFCC for any support you require."
His gaze flickers momentarily.
"Our president and my teacher, Rose, is... a powerful psychic, and very skilled in matters of the soul," he murmurs. It's a pretty strange thing to say, and even Alma knows it. But... "I am sure she would be... able to help you in some fashion as well."
The implication should be clear enough, though he fears that the independent-minded Elias may resist this suggestion as well. It's all he can do, though, while they are not speaking privately.
But at Amy's words, Alma seems to brighten slightly. This mission may not be a loss after all. The tall ex-model glances back at the dark-haired woman, her intriguing aura softening somewhat the lurking presence of Alice's terrifying psychic visage. Ah, relief. "I'm flattered that you know of my humble accomplishments," he says, smiling warmly, as though to ward off any further chill. "I would be honored to have a woman such as yourself close by my side." Careful, Alma, word choice. "I hope you come to call at the YFCC soon, Miss. I confess you've made me quite curious about you."
About her name, too. But Elias asked first.
'No.'
That sends a shiver up the spine of the Templar, faint but surprising enough that she almost draws in a sharp breath as Alice responds to her polite offer. She is not privy to the gruesome sight that follows on for the reckoning of the Phoenix, but the manner of the girl certainly suggests that something is far from right - an implication only mildly relieved by the softer words which follow, stoic stormy blue meeting disturbed violet. But Amy merely nods, withdrawing from her advance upon the girl, unconsciously taking a position closer to Alma and Elias than the one she held previous.
The focus of her attention causes her to miss the mouthed words that pass between the two men; and she has no reason other than a strange, indistinct suspicion to believe that the monotonous child is victim to anything more than a troubled past. She feels a wave of sympathy, but it is mitigated by guilt at her inward reaction. How could she be so cold?
"Ah," she shakes her head faintly to clear the ill thought, looking first to the implacable priest who radiates such cool strength. Like Alma, she is certain that he will be caring for the poor child. "I didn't introduce myself, did I?" Her smile is self-admonishing, but takes no pain in being so. It is the expression of one who has accepted her flaws and can live with them. "My name is Amy. Amy Johnson. I'm..."
She trails off there, darting her gaze away from those unpenetrable shades, focusing momentarily on a spot away from her fellows as she lowers her chin. How much should she say? Allowing Alma to speak his piece, feeling the warmth in his expression even before she glances up at him and sees it. His is a curious presence; at once so compelling, so magnetic in spite of that hideous scar, and yet somehow his aura seems less open to her than Elias' own. It is a curious feeling. Oddly familiar, and yet wildly new and mysteriously exotic.
But they are all grounded in their way. His choice of words is momentarily jarring, the woman's darkly stunning blue eyes widening in surprise, then settling in a sudden, very open display of amusement. They all but twinkle when she allows her emotion to show through, and her cheeks dimple as a broad, teasing smile settles across her pleasant features. "A woman such as myself?" She echoes, laughter in her words, and yet she's not quite flirting. It almost seems like a challenge, testing the calibre of this famous young man.
She cannot be entirely without confidence, despite her earlier humility.
"But," she draws the syllable out, letting the final note tick crisply into place - accentuated notably by her accent, "I'm happy that you would so readily accept me. I must admit, I wasn't sure what to expect of you. There are so many rumours, so much said that is good, and with the nature of rumour..." She allows that to hang and drift away, rejoining with a toss of her head, raven bangs flicking against her shoulders. "I'd like to speak with you again, sometime, but first." She glances at Elias, her head tilting faintly to one side as if considering something before she turns back to Alma. "Let me ask you a question, Mr. Towazu."
"Can I trust you?"
It makes one wonder. Can Elias see such things as well? Just how in tune with things is the man? If anything that look of his makes for a perfect poker face. It is hard to gauge much about the man at all. The only saving grace is those that are more in tune with the spiritual side of things can sense a great sense of resolve and conviction. The man is genuine despite the appearance of being rough. The fact everyone at the shelter is always smiles around him seems to show just what sort man Elias really is.
He seems to refrain from mentioning much more about Alice at the moment and the hint that Alma makes only confirms the suspicions of the priest. The man has a very acute sense it would seem. "I will take that into consideration if I ever feel like this is not something I can handle." Alma is a good fellow, but unlike the young man Elias has been around Alice and knows what precautions need to be made. Introducing the girl to some gypsy isn't something he is instantly going to agree to. Not until he meets her first at least.
When Amy finally introduces herself he just gives a small bow much like the one that he gave Alma earlier, but he remains silent as he listens to her. Curious that she trails off like that as if ashamed of something. Even as she talks to Alma she can feel the priest's gaze on her. His attention though finally moves away from her as he looks to make sure Alice is fine at the moment.
The kitchen is nice, the kitchen is quaint, the kitchen is isolated....it's with that last realization Alice starts hearing the whisper, '...arred man is after you, he wants to hurt you dear dear Alice...' She shivers and shakes her head trying to block out the voice but now that she's alone and feeling isolated it had become much harder to do so, 'let me take over, I'll make him go away~. Then there'll be pretty rubies everywhere Alice my dear!' Cringing as the voice seems to loom over her she holds her hands to her ears not making a peep...
Then the kettle whistles and the voice receeds for the momment, "T...tea is coming." She calls softly down the hallway. Leaving her book on the kitchen table she hurridly packs the tray with everything they'll need for tea, including a few biscuits, as she rushes back into the hall, her eyes still slightly wider with fright but otherwise her dour look firmly in place.
Again she hides behind Elias as much as she can but there is a sudden sensation of need from the girl for human contact, i.e. she's much more visible this time and making shy eye contact with both Alma and Amy. Looking through her bushy bangs she meets Elias' gaze, "Are we sitting Father?" her voice as quiet and soft as before but obviously feeling more relaxed in the strangers presence now.
Alma gets a brief show as Alice comes out of the kitchen the black presence having almost consumed her light violet light turning it all a deep dark purple as the being that had glared at him before was trying to swallow Alice whole like some sort of constrictor snake, but now it suddenly was turning back into the black splotches and within moments of closing the distance with everyone else, they in turn were lightening and shrinking slightly into little specks in her wispy aura.
Alas, Alma's charm offensive is of no use against the priest, its intended target. He knew chances were slim, but, like so many of his endeavors, he judged it a risk worth taking. Somehow, he doubts that Elias will ever ask him for help. But he knows also that the man will not refuse him if he comes asking for assistance of his own. And there has been an accidental success, it seems, at least of a sort. The mysterious Amy Johnson seems more amenable -- and seems eager to assist the both of them. His mind geared toward the opportunity to form new relationships, and his administrative talents in full operation, the scarred beauty already begins contemplating new possibilities, and ways of achieving his intended unity.
"Yes... please do," he murmurs to Elias in return.
Don't call it cunning. It sounds so mean.
Alma is, of course, startled by Amy's initial rhetorical question. What did she think he meant? Oh, right, not everyone understands why he finds particular individuals so striking. But seriously, what did she think he meant? Still, her carriage is entrancing, and her words, perhaps aided by her accent, continue to hold the young man's attention. She's a strange woman, but perhaps stranger to others than to him. Alma accepts strangeness readily when it emerges from a vibrant spirit, and in that regard, Amy is far from a Xiangfei.
If that question throws him for a loop, he doesn't show it.
He does take a moment to ponder, though, though his expression does not change overtly, and his eyes remain mild, his poise having fully recovered from his initial encounter with Alice. "I have never betrayed a friend," he says quietly, "and I stake my life on every promise I make." He would like to say he has kept them all. But he has lived too long now for that to be true. And, of course, his scars are proof of the brushes with death that are the consequence of those promises. "You may trust me to be sincere in all my words and actions." He pauses, and then smiles, as though to alleviate the seriousness of his words. "But you should not trust me to be anyone other than myself. I confess there are moments when... I cannot restrain my passion." But he seems so restrained.
The scarred beauty's smile widens further, hopefully lifting any tension.
"So it may depend on what you intend to trust me with."
He's not trying to hit on her, really.
"I--"
Again, despite his best efforts, Alma falters. This is /really/ difficult for him. Swallowing momentarily, hoping his stumble is not too obvious, he cannot prevent his gaze from flickering back to Annie. It will of course be apparent to Elias just /how/ unsettled the otherwise composed young man is. "S... Sir..." But he can say nothing more. 'Father?' No, it's not his place. He swallows his horror.
"...Thank you for the tea, Miss Carrol," is all he murmurs.
The rattling of teacups against saucers draws Amy's attention from Alma as he makes his reply. A dark eyebrow remains arched for a second before she relaxes and graces the returning girl with the gentlest of smiles, deliberately not maintaining eye contact for too long - though whether it is out of regard for the girl's feelings or to save her own inadequacies is admittedly uncertain. She allows Elias to decide whether they will sit or stand as she glances back to the Thrice-Born Hero.
"I intend to trust you with something I've not admitted to anybody else. But like you," she raises her chin just faintly, a proud gesture that lends her freckled features an oddly regal bearing, "I'm guided by my passions, and I like to be honest with those I feel I /can/ trust." She pauses, drawing and releasing a slow breath, canting her gaze away from Alma and half-turning to present her profile to both men. Without thinking, she ends up staring distantly just past Alice - almost through her, in fact. And she laughs.
It's a disarming sound, as though the woman had suddenly opened the floodgates of her soul, releasing herself from the burdens and shackles of a life lumbered down by far too many of these things. It may be partly true. Once more a hand strays to her cross, this time barely brushing it and coming to rest instead just against her breast as she glances sidelong to both men.
"I told you my name, but I'll tell you what I am. I'm.. a knight, in the service of the church." She dips her chin to Elias as she offers that part, as if to verify that she is part of the same creed. Likely why she trusts him. "We're an order that dates back eight hundred years, to the crusades in Jerusalem." To simplify history hugely. She is not here to give a lesson. "I'm a Templar. So believe me, Mr. Towazu, Father Patrick, when I offer my service..."
She sighs, a gentle sound through parted lips, which quirk upward still as though there were some amusement in the telling. Truthfully, she suspects they may not believe her - but her tone is earnest in spite of this. She does not /sound/ as though she is spinning a yarn, and why would she?
"I do not do so lightly. Your are good men, and I am at your disposal."
A glance goes to Alma, an arched brow, and she flashes a mischievous half-grin.
"However you would use me."
In his thoughts the priest wonders if he is going to need to get a bucket of cold water. Now if his plans are to use it on Amy or Alma is still up in the air. The arrival of Alice might actually be beneficial at this point to break the situation up. He just glances at Alma while noticing the man's reaction once again. The priest just gives a faint shake of his head. If not for Amy being so close he would keep his tone low to let Alma know to try and act normal. Maybe that is why Elias always seems to have that expression on him. He has dealt with Alice's problem long enough that acting afraid or different around her can only incite her to lose control.
"Yes, please sit." he priest says while motioning to the group of chairs that he had offered earlier. "Do you wish to join us Alice or are you still reading?" It may not be a good idea, but it could be a worse idea to just send her away. The poor girl cannot help what has happened to her and while she can be dangerous he fully believes himself capable enough to quash any violent urges that may come out of the girl. At least Amy hasn't seemed too threatened so Alma is the one he needs to try and get to remain more calm.
Alice is quiet and thoughtful for a moment as she decides how to respond to Elias' question. The smile from Amy is greeted with a small shy nod from the violet haired girl as she passes her fellow Englishman the tea. Alma's obvious unsettled state at her presence causes her to get tense again and as he thanks her she mumbles out a barely audible, "...you'rewlecome..." She almost sounds ashamed if one can hear her that well that is.
Alma gets to see the specks become splotches again as Alice's degree of discomfort rises again though some of the splotches form into eyes and seem to be very much staring at the thrice-born hero as if to size him up...
As Amy reveals that she is a knight, Alice actually looks up her dour stoneface momentarily vanishes to be replaced by a cross between surprise and intense curiousity, then Alice murmurs something to herself, "..too goo..." is all that can be made out as she settles back into her shell. Though finally she does respond, "I'll...I'll stay Father Elias." It's obvious she still deeply desires the company as it was too soon to retreat to solitude given that the whisper had just assaulted her mere minutes ago. So she quietly picks a seat to sit down in and place her tea cup and saucer in her lap though she fidgets slightly as though she wants to pull her legs up and wrap her arms around her knees to hide behind.
Alma should be better than this.
He flushes slightly, having enough good grace to be genuinely embarrassed, as he can see from both Elias's expres-- well, Elias's faint shake of his head that his unsettled state is fruitless, and further, from Alice's shifting aura, that she can tell as well as he. Sternly, he asserts discipline over his wavering heart, managing even to prevent his brow from furrowing at his own flash of frustration. How could he, of all people, be the one to cause trouble here? Not in this man's place of work. It would be a disgrace to everything Alma stands for. Sincerity should never mean poor communication, not for a man who so fervently believes in humanity's interdependence. He's the one messing up right now.
How could he view Alice as a threat? Elias, of course, has it under control. He still needs more training, much more training.
...He hasn't seen Rose-sensei in a little.
Alma restrains, too, his faintly crestfallen sentiments, as he nods gratefully to Elias's repeated invitation. He was too caught up in all the powerful auras before. "Yes, thank you so much." And he listens to Amy, courteously pulling out the chair next to his for her before seating himself, keeping his eyes on her -- and off the shy little girl and her fearsome psyche -- as she offers a rather startling history. The Knights Templar-- he's heard of them, of course, and read of them in school, but only briefly. For a man of such strong personal faith, he actually knows quite little of religion. Perhaps precisely because he never felt as though he had need of it.
His perspective, he now reflects, may have been limited, there.
"Then I am honored by your trust," he says sincerely, lowering his head as though to more fully demonstrate his thankfulness. He has no doubt this woman is a worthy asset, and has a true uncultivated potential; that stormy aura of hers glints in her eyes, which once again he finds it difficult to tear his gaze from. How intriguing. Though she's described herself, she's explained very little. "As a psychic," he says, seeing no need to embellish the point, despite it not being a topic often spoken frankly about, "I believe myself afforded a... unique perspective on the human condition." It's difficult to describe, to be sure, and probably not worth doing so; 'color' is only the barest approximation. "I see the effects of virtue and of vice, of happiness and of despair; I see the ties that bind us and the convictions that set us apart. So I have naturally found myself driven to... create a space, a world, where my fellows may be unified in their distinct endeavors. I... want to facilitate the pursuit of passion."
It's as honest and concise as he can make it. His smile flickers again. Strange; it truly is difficult to look away at this woman. And the more he stares at her, the more mischevious her own smile seems. Odd, that.
"I can only succeed in small ways, but," and at last he tears his gaze away, looking toward the stoic priest, his smile remaining. "I know from experience that I cannot turn my back on chaos in the world, and still quell chaos when it rises in my heart."
Religion is a difficult concept to quantify in a land where so many men walk forth with the mythical strength of demi-gods. How can an unseen deity, existence only justified through esoteric writings, possibly compare to a mighty warrior whose every action can be watched and replayed a thousand times - in a dozen different physical mediums. The answer remains as simple in essence as it ever has been; because nothing compares to faith. True faith. A person's utmost belief if anything can drive them to accomplish wonderful things, as Alma himself knows. Because he has it too. In the end, the 'proof' does not matter. One becomes the proof.
Amy takes the proferred seat graciously, though there is a momentary hesitation before she does so. Though she came to speak with the Father, to become a part of his good work here, she finds herself immensely distracted by this psionic prince. And a part of that is the familiarity in his distinct aura, as though she has encountered him before - or perhaps a part of him. A soul he has touched? She is uncertain. Until he explains his nature.
"Farah..."
She barely speaks the name, whispering it to herself without forethought as she continues to gaze upon Alma intently, finally understanding why he feels so unusual. And knowing what she faced herself, one week ago - and then again, in the match sanctioned by the Phoenix himself. Why she has felt subtly altered ever since she met the Egyptian, and why there was something disturbing about her encounter with Zach Glen. She clears her throat softly, moving her thoughts along for another time.
"Chaos is a part of us all, those who fight for what they believe." She glances at each of those present, including Alice, though doing so draws the ghost of a frown. Though why is an enigma - even for Alma, it is hard to discern whether Amy suspects anything untoward about the girl, or whether she is merely concerned about her age and her apparent frailty. "I am supposed to strive for order, and yet I cannot accomplish this without giving in to violence. By which I mean," she smiles, picking up her teacup and twisting it thoughtfully in her grip, "I can't even /strive/ without giving in. It conflicts with my faith. Which is why I come here, Father."
The Templar looks to Elias, sipping her tea and placing it back upon the saucer in her lip, slowly nodding her head as she meets those shaded eyes.
"I doubt that I am just. I err from the righteous path, perhaps always will, but perhaps I can improve myself by performing selfless deeds. Without violence, or suffering. I cannot promise you all of my time, though what I /can/ spare I gladly will. Perhaps," she cants her head, stormy blue eyes settling now upon the troubled girl sitting in their midst, "A fresh perspective could be what some of these children need."
It seems Alma is starting to understand what he must do and control himself even for a short while with Alice present. He seems intent on listening to both Alma and Amy speak while gathering his own thoughts. His own gaze often traveling to look upon Alice for a few moments. It seems the demon in the girl is at least being held in check for now. Once his guests are gone he will have to comfort the girl and make sure she won't have another episode any time soon.
Even more curious is Amy's explanation of why she has decided to seek out Elias. He has often tried to keep himself out of the spotlight even if his deeds are noble and worthy of being known about. He often feels that attention could just bring some harm to the people that he takes care of. He doesn't want another incident like the one that recently happened in Metro. "Well then. If you feel this will help strengthen your faith I cannot turn you away." he tells Amy after taking a sip of his tea. The Irishman sets it back down then slowly rises to his feet. "I don't have anything for you today, but perhaps stop by tomorrow morning and we can see about what we can be done." If she wants to help there is plenty of work. Even if it is something as simple as serving meals to those that come in.
His hands clasp behind his back again and the priest gives a faint nod. "It was enjoyable to meet you both. Mr. Towazu, I hope we can meet again." he tells the younger man. "I do have some things to tend to so excuse me while I take care of them." His gaze does turn towards Alice and he unclasps his hands to motion to her. "Alice, care to help?" He rather not leave her with the two just in case. "You two may stay as long as you wish. Feel free to talk." He offers before turning about to head up the stairs.
Alice barely manages to stop the tea cup from shaking violently against its saucer as Alma explains about the world he sees and her thoughts instantly turn dark, he can see her, the monster she really is that must be why...oh this is terrible, she feels utterly ashamed as it all becomes clear to her that Alma was merely reacting to the twisted thing she was...she grabs ahold of her tears before they fall and manages to keep her face absolutely straight and calm as she looks up to meet Alma's eyes for a second, "I...I am sorry." Her tone neutral but somehow tinged in sadness.
As Amy looks at her Alice feels her stomach turn, can she see too? Has she just been hiding it better than the man?!! Shivering slightly Alice shakily finshes her tea before placing the saucer and cup on a end table. She can hear the kindness in Amy's voice but the words still sting for the self conscious child as she momentarily meets Amy's gaze with a haunted and forlorn look before she manages to look away. To say that her discomfort had gone through the roof would be and understatement.
Thus when Father Elias gives her an out she's more than happy to take it, "...yes...Father." Her response if possible being even weaker and more frail than when she'd first met the two guests, to whom she curtseys before promptly almost running leaves the room and heads up the stairs in front of Elias. It was going to be hours before she calmed down after that horrific, in her mind, interchange with strangers....
Alma would get a lovely view of her aura suddenly shifting dark, the thing living within it popping out, and finally it laughing insanely at the the girl's obvious distress. It even goes as far as to reach down and almost tenderly rub the girl's eye and pull away with a tear that it slowly puts on a show of licking from it's finger before the most diabalically evil smile forms on its wicked desicated face.
Log created on 17:56:08 01/11/2011 by Alma, and last modified on 02:27:37 01/12/2011.