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Post by rosallora on Jun 29, 2020 21:13:01 GMT -8
[Toustain]
Her words are a blur and they hurt to hear. Each touch is a searing pain on her skin, every word a hot brand that seeks to burn her. And they come, one after another, so close together that they become a smear of pain too similar to the blood that once was abstractly painted on her skin.
You deserve.... you deserve....
She deserves nothing, for being a traitor. She will have absolution because she corrected her mistake. And yet, there in her hindbrain, some part of her calls out. Some part of her knows, wants to fall into this embrace with a new set of raw tears, understands the significance of this. It cuts into her. It wants Grace to hold her forever, and hug her, and tell her that things will be alright. All those desires that Toustain kept locked up in her room with the small cot and the wan blanket. The yearning.
To be accepted. To be wanted. To be seen, and known.
Vesta knows her. Vesta wanted her, accepted her. She doesn't need anyone but Vesta, she doesn't need anything else but the Light. But Toustain cannot help to respond to human warmth, and she silently leans into Grace, the other woman's strength supporting her.
She does not believe her: that she is deserving of happiness, nor of love. But for this moment, where they meet, she wants to believe this is not the sin she now knows it to be.
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jun 29, 2020 21:23:23 GMT -8
"There, Toast. Everything is alright. You should rest for now. I will be with you. I will stay by your side as long as need be." Grace coos, holding Toast carefully and stroking her hair. This was an intimacy she, herself, had not felt in a very long time. Since...Gabby? Oh, those memories stung worse than any whiplash. Best to leave that alone. Count your blessings, as the saying went. Toast wasn't thrashing or pushing her away. That was something, at least.
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Post by rosallora on Jun 29, 2020 21:27:14 GMT -8
[Toustain]
"I... want to rest," she replies, voice weak. "I just... want to rest."
She rests without her own consent - her eyes finally shutter for good (for now), her body still pressed against Grace's. She's out of midnight oil to burn. She has endured so much, and now, in this moment of true respite, she finally gives in.
Toustain Royer is asleep. And whether the Goddess smiles upon that or not remains to be seen.
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Post by Kidney on Jun 29, 2020 22:08:19 GMT -8
There was a slight silence in the main area of the Abbey. What came next, was the shift in the pews, and the gasp for air. Tod awoke in the midst of a nightmare, a shriek echoing off the walls as he came to. Blood spattered his clothes, and his throat was swollen, and his breathing forced him to cough. He did so, hands clasped around his mouth, eyes darting around the room, spying bloody spots where bodies once laid. Tod remembered their faces, their twisted grimaces as the swords buried in their flesh ripped their spirits from the forms they piloted.
He let out a shaking exhale, and rubbed his eyes, bent over himself and holding his head in his soft hands. His form was decrepit at the moment, thinner than he had ever been, sweating, hair grown into some greasy mess. He was one, stitched clothes and broken spirit contributing to the now intense sobbing that echoed off the same walls the shriek had. His body slumping to the floor afterwards was enough to raise a ruckus on its own.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Jun 30, 2020 15:54:09 GMT -8
Nasuris could only be so lucky to not have been barreled over. Although not a push over it wasn’t as if her balance was perfect especially with her quick footed steps and want to leave the area. Of course though another light bearer, one who may or may not have saw what she took, hopefully the later. Either way with either Less than pleasant conversation a quick flew, Nasuris felt this would help her out,
“Almost is an understatement. This is why when your off in a hurry you try to stay in the middle of the hallway light bearer.” Nasuris spat, her good mood already ruined by incompetence, oh if it wasn’t the Abbey could she be less than kind to her annoyances. But, to keep stable access, Nasuris agreed to keep the threats and hurtful words at a minimum.
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Post by twostepsback on Jul 2, 2020 15:22:19 GMT -8
"Take it easy," Charissa said as she maneuvered herself around Nasuris, and into a position where she could look down the corridor that led to the 'penance chambers'. "You're acting like..." Charissa trails off as she notices the obviously riffled through clothing, clothing that Charis saw Toustain wearing earlier. Charis' light brown eyes sharpened into a glare. "...like you stole something." She growls.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Jul 2, 2020 17:17:04 GMT -8
“Acting like... excuse me? Do you accuse everyone who gets angry with bumping into you of stealing or are you just thinking the stereotype fits your holy thoughts?” Nasuris asked incredulously, to think the nerve this woman had to such bluntly state the accusation. Of course the gods would try to make her work for this, wouldn’t be a fun life otherwise to be free of nuisances like this. Brushing herself off she stared at the woman with daggers in her eyes, she had done this often enough not to let herself act any more suspicious than her looks.
“Given we’ve never met, I’ll give you a pass on not understanding that I absolutely abhor you light bringers. I act this way towards your kind regularly since I’ve given my word I’d try to be nicer to you people in exchange for being allowed access to your library and other services. I would’ve used more curses and simply knocked you away already if it wasn’t for that.” Nasuris said sternly, putting the ground rules and knowledge first to make this easier. Thankfully this person had no proof she did steal something. The bridle was hidden away and her natural aura was dark enough to mask any light trinket of power, even the bridle. The only thing she has going was the armor and if it came to it Nasuris was close to figuring out a lie for Charis.
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Post by rosallora on Jul 3, 2020 10:45:26 GMT -8
[Toustain]
She wakes uneasily. It was... dark. It felt dark. The glow of candles, the yawning black chasm beyond Grace's window - yes, Grace's window. Toustain blinks her heavy green eyes. She feels unsteady, as if she had forgotten to breathe for some time. Her lungs ached, her face strained. The pressure of the wrappings around her body become apparent, and she cringes at the uneven pain that blossoms over her senses. "Agh..."
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jul 3, 2020 12:37:04 GMT -8
Grace sat upright slowly. She had drifted off to sleep not long after Toast, after laying the woman down on her stomach on her bed. When she heard her friend stirring, she gently stroked her hair to let her know she wasn't alone.
"Easy now, sister. Remember not to strain yourself." she warned softly.
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The Abbey
Jul 3, 2020 13:43:56 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by rosallora on Jul 3, 2020 13:43:56 GMT -8
"Don't-" she tries, the feeling of Grace's fingers in her hair so sweet, so comforting. She cared. She cared about her and if... if. No, when.
When Toustain was gone she would suffer. She would suffer as she had - as she was now. Suffering because this love, this connection, was a deep violation of their? Their... vows? But Grace was different. Toustain doesn't know the shape or weight of the structured and supportive chains that bound the abbess.
"I'm fine," she insists. It hurts. When she shifts her shoulders to push herself up and off the surface of the bed, her back feels about ready to tear in two pieces, and she whimpers, settling back down onto the blanket without her consent. "Ngh.. just.. a moment. I will be fine."
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Post by twostepsback on Jul 3, 2020 20:32:57 GMT -8
"Those clothes behind you have been visibly disturbed, and Sister Toustain doesn't seem like the type of person to haphazardly discard her clothes," Charissa states as her eyes dart around Nasuris' form, looking for any sort of odd bulges or possible hidden pockets. Once again, the tricks and techniques Charis had learned from being around Bernard were proving to be of greater use than most of the things that the Church had tried to teach her.
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jul 4, 2020 1:47:30 GMT -8
"You will bleed all over my bed. I would prefer you did not. Stay and rest. I insist." Grace sates, gentle yet firm. She was silent, pondering what to do now in this odd situation. Considering what to say and do so as to not do any harm. She hated walking these tightropes.
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The Abbey
Jul 4, 2020 4:50:09 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by rosallora on Jul 4, 2020 4:50:09 GMT -8
A silence settlers as Toast obeys. She doesn't want to, but she does, she must - her body gave no room for argument. She rests her cheek on the sheet, looking away from Grace.
Don't... don't...
She closes her eyes. She feels the pain settle over her like a blanket, dull now that she wasn't trying to go anywhere. She looks out the window into that inky black. "...I feel... I've made. Bad choices. The wrong ones, over and over. Naive ones. I want to promise I'll do better, abbess, but I don’t know what better looks like."
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jul 4, 2020 6:49:20 GMT -8
"I could almost be smug, in such a moment. You, who always seemed to know what to say to everyone, now so lost. But, instead, I feel only...a sense of camaraderie with you. Everything you just described...That is more or less how I have felt my whole life." Grace explained, looking off at a wall and taking Toast's hand again. Just holding it.
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Post by rosallora on Jul 4, 2020 7:28:04 GMT -8
[Toustain]
She is lost. She feels so, so lost. "I don't know how you bear it." She feels Grace's hand settle on her own, and she struggles with the urge to draw back. She doesn't want to hold hands. She doesn't want this comfort, she doesn't deserve this comfort. She can ask nothing, was entitled to nothing. She had broken her vows and was lower than dirt. Lower than shit.
And still: it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
"I don't know what to say to them," she says quietly. "I just... talk. I don't think well enough."
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