The Abbey

[Vanitypirate]

For a moment, Tilly thought to protest. She stood dumbly where she stood and watched as Grace moved past Blood, who himself shifted to stand further into the depths of the bathhouse.
Tilly rubbed the side of her cheek as if she had been struck.
It was bitterly clear: Tilly could have said anything to Grace, and it wouldn't have mattered. There was not a thought spared to her repeated mentions of compassion or healing, or the insinuations to a secondary romance so soon after Roderick's passing.

Indeed, if this was what the reception from a close friend was like, she couldn't fathom what it would be for a wealth of strangers to know...

"I'll come back later, then." She took a step to the door and gave Grace a small wave in defeat,

"...Remember to treat yourself well, and all."

It was only get worse from here. She shut the door and knew she was damned.

"Sorry about that." She gave a sigh, and a shrug as she rubbed the back of her neck, behind the now-dried sandy strands of hair with her long fingers. She turned to face her last, red-cloaked refuge of companionship, without Grace, or Celeste, or Cugey, or Ariana, or Courcy...

Tilly was simply, plainly on the verge of systematically isolating herself, and here she was, presented with the opportunity to do just the same to Lekalis if she wasn't able to change her course. Instead, she resolved to simply not tell him-- not yet, at the very least. Not until she had more concrete evidence than a bloody nose, if what she'd seen was true, and she would have more than enough time for it.

She flared her teeth in a kindly smile at Lekalis, and pushed her hands into her pockets.

"Well!" Tilly said, simply, without much a thought as to how to continue the statement,

"I... you're not very interested in those cups, I don't think?"

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

His smile drooped, though its curvature was still apparent, as he nodded solemnly to Tilly's words; he said nothing, as he shifted the pail of water to be held in the crux of his arm. Hoping it was enough to imply the measure of respect he'd extened himself unto, as he bowed his head for emphasis.

He waited well past the door's closure before speaking; even allowing some time for Grace to prance on. Even still, he spoke with a hushed tone.

When his eyes came back to look at her verdant ones, he sported a scrutinizing, playful glimmer in his right occuli, raising his brow as his twin onyx pupils looked poignantly down to Tilly's now hidden pockets, with a knowing harumph.
As though in protest, he held out his hand expectantly for her to take, now in private; waggling his fingers.
"No need to apologize; me and The Cloth never got along well. And I'm sure she's heard the same rumors as yours, spiced up with devilry and salacious fiendishness to boot; making for thrice the exciting tale, I'm sure." He supposed in, as much amused, no less saddened tone.
"Memorable, at least!" He assured his confidence to Tilly, as he shrugged a shoulder.

"The cups, though... well... You're right; I wasn't... Particularly interested in those cups I bespoke--" He rolled his eyes and shrugged with some adolescant admittance. When those falconly eyes fell back onto gazing at Tilly's meadowy eyes, they were all but alight with a familiar (and now declared) fiendish scandal.
"-- But, forsooth, I was more intriguied by the cup you bear." He purred, quietly, so as to further conceal their romance. Though, his eyes all but obviously roamed her more venereal anatomy.

Lekalis knew full well the dire nature of the situation, but, even still... As he spied her toothy smile, perhaps darkened by the mood, he still found its radiance and chipped nature inspiring. Even if she hadn't smiled, the irreplacable twinkle in her greedy eyes would have been enough; he could almost spy the stain of her gold-pinching ways in the strands, as much as his own rouge influence.
In short, he found confidence in his Lover, at last. He could feel his heart fluttering as it bathed in the sensation.

//

[Vanitypirate]

Florence sat at her perch in front of the desk as Libourg went about his ministrations with as much grace as a moth spinning dizzily about a lantern-- that is to say, there was a distinct lack of grace in his movements. As such, Libourg was in frighteningly good company with the stiff-limbed doctor.

"I thank you." She nodded her beaky head as her arm moved, like a lever upon a pivot in desperate need of oiling, to plunge the tip of her quill into the open inkpot. Although, upon second consideration, she plucked up the pot and moved it to the side of the desk opposite to where Libourg was situated.

Upon third consideration, she found it prudent to shuffle her notes, and to cleverly turn to a page with less incriminating information written on it-- namely, one filled to the brim with dull medical terminology and vaguely Italian verbage.

"I sleep here." She informed him with equal drabness.

[Outisakanobody]

"Will you come to see me? You seem to have all you want in that room..." Grace muttered to herself, even more bitter that Tilly made not even a token attempt at conniving her to stay. It hurt, almost as much as knowing she had been the one who did wrong in the first place. Ugly emotions twisted in her gut, stamping out any positivity being with Tilly have made.


It felt awful. She felt awful. She was awful. Why shouldn't Tilly be gald to see her go. For all her talk, Tilly didn't seem to want any of the friendship and healing that Grace offered, even when it was obvious she needed it. She was too blind and too stubborn and too stupid and it was probably that BASTARD Blood's fault, DOING WHO KNOWS WHAT TOGETHER BEING SO INSUFFERABLE HOW COULD SHE SO READILY SIDE WITH HIM NEVER ATTEMPTING TO TAKE HER ADVICE OR DEFEND HER...All Tilly's words were honeyed lies made to placate a burden she clearly wished to be rid of. Things had changed. They were not the same women that had met outside that cemetery that night.

They were also not the friends that they had once been.

[Vanitypirate]

Tilly stared at the hands a moment.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked to him with some hesitance and a smile that flickered and wavered at the mention of a 'cup.' She brought a hand up out of her pocket to rub self-consciously at the rather prominent bridge of her nose as she gave a half-hearted chuckle and glanced to their boots.
Did he know?

"Why, what do you mean by 'cup'?" Regardless, she feigned innocence, as she finally took his hand and slid the other out of its den in her patchwork-coat pocket. She smiled toothily and made to consciously ignore that new feeling, that dread in a pit in her stomach. She motioned to the pail of water and said matter-of-factly,

"I believe that's called a... 'bucket', yes." She tapped at her chin with that long finger and nodded sagely, smiling,

"...Yes, but what did you want to talk about? ...In earnest." Tilly prodded, once more, and perhaps a touch of worry in her tone. Her fingers toyed with the threading on the edge of her coat as she awaited a response.
She wasn't entirely sure what she was expecting, however.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

The Ex-Lord clucked his tongue and brought up Tilly's hand to kiss her knuckle, looking up to her as he'd bowed his head to do so, before letting their interlocked digits bob about between them.
He backed up, slowly, towards the fateful bench; it would be easier to take the info sitting down, he knew, though... His legs did feel a touch weary, perhaps all this inaction had grown moss on his joints.

Regardless, he lightly patted her shoulder with their combined hands, giving her a teasing wink; though he duelly acknowledged a small lack of zest and pip in her tone.

"I don't think these prudent cobblestones would allow my means to be spoken aloud. Not without the building falling on my head in chastizing zeal." He mused, his tone ever flowing; it felt good to be here again, despite the dark undertones of the deed.

For every brightest light, there was always a darker shadow, he knew. But, in the glow of their Love, he felt such things were wavered and broken. All that was left was to pray she felt the same.
He chuckled, still, at her obvious remark; selfsame humor that he relished in himself. It was almost sinful how he loved her so.

Though, those last fateful words finally cracked his jubilant smile; such stretches of his skin were 'aught but unright to have in such grim news. Facts, he would start with... To gauge her. It was something he wished he needn't do, but... If anything, he hoped she would see the logic and tact in it. The respect he harbored.

Lekalis made to sit down, urging her to follow suit as he set the pail between his now settled feet.
"Do you... Do you remember, what I asked you after our... Second bout of lust?" He inquired, furrowing his brow as he tried to recollect himself.
"About how... I hoped you would still Love me, when you learned all there was to this... Bastardly Ex-Lord you've fallen for?" Lekalis began, easily; the words were not difficult, nor hard to find. He let the inquiry stand, as rhetorical as it was, while he lovingly waited for her to join him on the bench...

//

[Vanitypirate]

"Oh, heavens; not from a gentleman as yourself."

There was a comfort to be found, in the sarcasm, in this stalling, although she cursed herself for it; it was no use in prolonging what was to come, like slowly pulling a bit of wax from the skin. The hesitation, the way he slowly guided her to that bench, all foreshadowed the bad news she knew she was due to receive.

"I... remember, yes."

And what an idiot she was, for not foreseeing the consequences of the act-- of the repeated act, especially. It was not uncommon knowledge that such things typically resulted in a child; although, the interworkings and mechanics of it were all but lost on her.
She had naively thought that, perhaps, she was incapable. Herself and Roderick had not run into this issue, it was true, albeit her experience ended with him...

She kept her hand interlocked as she moved to sit with him on the bench, perching with one spindly leg hooked over the other. Tilly watched him with as much steely dread and anticipation as if she were a prisoner awaiting an executioner's sentence, if the light-hearted smile that played upon her expression did not betray otherwise.

"Try me: what else have I got to know?"

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

In a brief flicker, he shared her small smile; looking to her, then away as he thought on the words he wanted to say. He chewed on his lower lip briefly, before taking another breath; he couldn't imagine how she felt, teasing her on so ominously.

Though, for a moment, as he took a breath; looking to her and seeing the growing dread in her eyes, in the small tenses in her unseeable veins, pumping through her fingers, her wrist, her palm... He felt pity, and regret flare for just a moment. Then he quelled them; he had to trust her trust in him. Respect what she'd done, it was as much her decision as it was his. She deserved to know.

He chuckled, though, as the intensity in his features seemed to reach a pinnacle. He realized, in that moment, that she was no doubt fearing some more grounded danger. That, for once, the most definite thing in the world was something utterly detatched from it.

"I am... Cursed. And... And in that deed, I... Know I've brought you into its pact." He stated forwardly, but softly and kindly as he let go of the pail and clasped her hand in both of his. Pulling it up between them as he shifted on his seat to face her.
Even so, his head bowed to look at their intertwined fingers somberly, before looking up to her eyes yet again. Yet still hoping she'd understand,
"T'is no blight or ruin upon you; its'... Affects are as you'd just experienced. The bleeding. It seems spontaneous, but it is not fatal; merely disorienting." His words came quickly, finding it imperitive not to let her speak and fluster until they were all out.

"You needn't fear it; of all the curses to be had, this is far from the worst. You will, at best, suffer from bouts as you had just now. Dreams of an endless red Ocean; y-you'll even see me! It's hardly malicious. Simply... Off putting. Florence and I, along with a few recently acquired others, have been attempting to learn more." He explained, his face rising now, eagerly telling the news with a reassuring and bright smile. His brows were set to be apologetic, but his eyes were confident as he tightened his grip on Tilly's hand.
The Ex-Lords' words still came at a slight hush, as he took in another breath and pressed on.

Momentarily realizing his mention of Florence could have been better informed, but he continued,
"I would say I am sorry, but in that moment I would damn the memory we had; I do not regret sharring with you My Love, and My Curse--" He admitted, his lips straining to keep his smile as he did feel sorrow, and self-loathing rise in his throat. But he kept strong, even if his tears threatened to spill.
"-- I am not sorry." He said again, and screwed his eyes shut and offered a nervous chuckle,
"But I do blame myself, as one 'aught, for pulling you into this." Came the conclusion, and he opened an eye worriedly as he presently bared his leftmost cheek.

"Strike me for damning you so. But find... Solace in that I'll get us both out! Together; this curse will be behind us and we can... Can frolick and be merry!" His words became more sparse as he strained his neck in preparation for a slap for his foolery, his mindless pursuit.
"... Children! A family, on a grassy moor, far away, or something!.. We'll wander! Nomads-yes!"
Lekalis paused his rambling, opening an eye to Tilly in preperation...


//

[Vanitypirate]

In the town she had grown up in, Tilly had the opportunity to observe the patterns of a rainstorm perhaps more often than most, given its rainy climate and its notable lack of sunshiny days.

This confession was much like a rainstorm, in itself. The air preceding it felt damp, still and heavy as she awaited it with... significantly more dread than a typical bout of rain. She, unlike much of her family, typically welcomed the cloudly downpour, although it came with its own sort of anticipation; in both events, she found herself at the edge of her seat, peering through the windows, tapping her thumbs together. The simple difference was that this early petrichor came with a wealth of more unwelcome feelings.

And then came the drizzle in the incipient stage, but she listened and stayed without much in the way of cover, or an umbrella, but rather subjected herself to the oncoming torrent by looking Lekalis in the eye as he spoke, pulling her other hand about his two clasped ones, shifting so that she might face him more directly, too.

This revelation was not quite what she had expected to be.

In fact, it was almost a relief; she was convinced that she was cursed long before her fatal coupling with this new Love, but with that first step off the stage coach, so early on, in search of companionship and riches. But both Curses, in their own right, were not so terrible: without the first, she would still be a drifting migrant, if nobody had jailed or crippled her first for her crimes, and without the second, she might not have known of the existence of a successor until a much more perilous time.

"I... see." The words broke like a quiet thunder, miles away.

Without the first, an entire, other individual's existence may not have happened, and without the second, she may not have even known it. This, she figured, was worth the bloody noses and the odd dreams-- albeit, even then, an Endless Red Ocean already sounded like a blessed respite from the typical nightmares that plagued her sleep. She found that this was more like rain than she first anticipated: Tilly found herself welcoming this new confession, too, as she did the cloudfall of her former home.

"Well... count us twice-damned, then, hm? Considering we're both rather sitting ducks in this place." Tilly averted her greenish eyes, fingers tensing and easing as if kneading over Lekalis' grip. Neither he nor Roderick-- or Tilly herself, for that matter-- fathomed how strong the depths of this hellish place pulled. Roderick naively proposed such a thing, too, she recalled: a life beyond this place, free of its burden, where colors existed beyond the usual shades of grey. As if such a place existed for someone as branded as them.

Tilly was twice-damned, and was soon to make it thrice, as she let herself become the downpour with a confession of her own. This was not a secret that she could keep forever, she knew, so she allowed the words to pour out while she still hadn't changed her mind to keep them dammed up safely.

"Ah, on that... I saw things, when my face was bleeding like that-- and I felt them, too. I told you about that figure with the... mask, and his robes like that big ocean. I didn't say how it talked to me. It told me that you, by name, and I were three. It felt through me."

She bowed her head a tad, as if more intensely interested in the texture of their boots, but she simply preferred to wait until after she was done speaking to see his reaction. Instead, Tilly focused her efforts and keeping her hands still, although they itched to flee from his and fidget, to cover her eyes or mouth, anything.

"I've been utterly... petrified to tell you, you ought to know. I thought you might think I was mad, or that you wouldn't believe me, but I've never been so sure of anything in my life. This Creature I saw, the thing part of this Curse, it made me feel a tether, l-like a... pull."

What a confession to make on the veritable eve of Roderick's funeral.

She took a breath, in and then heavily out through the nose. There was a need in spelling such things out deliberately-- there was a time and a place for haste and nerves, but it was not here.

"I don't know what to do. It... showed me that I've started to carry your child-- s-sans the... grassy moor and all, and the wandering--- presently, right now."

And there it was. Tilly prayed she would not regret it.

She dared to peek up from under her hat, awaiting his response.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

When no blow came, only distant assurement in its place, he felt a relief and fret in both his heart and mind. It was a wave of soothe, as much as it was a turmultuous storm; but he welcomed it regardless as he felt her fingers wriggle and writhe.
He couldn't help but chuckle in reply to it all; shaking his head as he let her fingers find some freedom, loosening up both his hands.

Perhaps it was unright to be so calm, narry, happy even in the light of such news but in truth... Her own acceptance of the curse, and admittance to bearing his child... It was all but terrifiying, for once. In the unknown quantaties of the future, he found himself enlightened and upraised above it all.

Indeed, he'd felt it too, in the throes of the curse; a stirring in the gut and loin...

... Yet, even still, the Crowgazer's influence was still ripe upon him like feathers to a crow. He shuddered, and shook his head in disbelief, though his smile and swiftly brightening mood and demeanour betrayed a measure of belief that was very much mirrored to Tilly's own.

Florence was right, and even with the encroaching complication, he was excited for it. Not just simply due to the impossible being made manifest so soon after its realization, but from the heroicism of it all. What a tale it would be, he knew, to tell the tale of how they'd all wrested their souls from some immortal coil; ousted themselves from a phylactric prison.
It was selfish, he knew, but it was doubly aligned with his friends goals... Perhaps now better named: Family.

Silence, he realized, besides his chuckles, were probably driving Tilly mad. Perhaps she thought himself gone mad now, from his incessant giggling.

So, he brought an overlaid hand back from its coddling of Tilly's own, raising it up to his own face in mild dismissal, and sooth, miming to lay down some unseen earth; before he matched Tilly's gaze with his own, his eyes open and eager: happy, deeply, for once in a long while... Something he felt he'd only shared with the recent Florence and 'aught else.
Lekalis brought his hand to meander about Tilly's face; pushing back her hat a touch before cupping her cheek. Had her nose been any smaller, he would've closed the distance and set his brow on hers; for now though, he resided with simply bumping the tip of his against hers.

"Lovely..." He stated simply, adoringly... Where words had come easily before, he found himself struggling now, despite the swell in his heart reaching its uttermost height.
"... I... Know not of the divinations of your visions, but... I trust you; mad or not, you've set yourself with a floundering philosopher." There was honesty in his tone, and tenor; he almost felt bad for not having some extreme reaction, but he could only surmount a growing calm and hidden excitement.

"And... Dreams, and visions, and the likes; all are neither madness, nor sanity. Rather... I like to see it as a state of clarity. Like... having an eye below, and above the water; half-submerged."
Lekalis shrugged, raising a brow at his own little spell of philosophy that he fancied.

"I'll not... Or, rather: Let's not, act daft and blind; I know Roderick spoke much like I had, here, on that fated day--" He began, taking a breath and shifting, pulling himself closer to Tilly, his smile waning to comfort and kindness, brushing his scalp up and under what brim remained on her hat, protruding past her brow.
"-- I can remember your... aversion to it all.", The Ex-Lord glanced away, thinking on his words before they came back; reassured, and probing. For all his guile, Florence had taught him the best way to pursue some of his most difficult hurdles.
"Tell me what you want, Tilly. Thinking not on how to get there..." He began, prompting,

"... Do you want this child..? My blood, and yours? Do you want to run from this?"
The Ex-Lord spoke softly, but neutrally; steadfast as he ran a thumb over her knuckles as he found himself wont to do. His other hand smoothing out her brow with his thumb, as his head wilted to one side; in tactful positioning, and thought.

//

[Shinzon]

Maria entered the Abbey once more, looking around nervously. Much less people were present now; it was back to its calm atmosphere. For a moment, she just stood there, enjoying the silence, a smile forming itself on her face as she felt at home once more. This time, she did not try to fight it back; the feeling was just too good. Sighing softly and closing her eyes, she pressed her back against one of the pillars, breathing deeply.

Melancholia filled her mind once more as she opened her eyes, remembering her role here before the foray into the ruins. Of course, it was not perfect, but at least, she had a lot less doubts. Her blind innocence, although shattered by the crusades, still held on as she considered the Light her cradle. Now, she felt battered and on the verge of breaking. She longed for peace.

[Outisakanobody]

Grace meandered through the abbey, blearily passing by everyone without a word, almost as if she were in a comatose state. People made attempts to talk with her, but she ignored them as if they didn't even exist. She ventured into the main area of the abbey again.

[Shinzon]

Maria's cheeks reddened as she saw a very familiar face passing by. She had trouble deciding how she felt about Grace; she represented some of the things she hated about the Church, and yet, she knew that behind all of this, she still felt a great deal of sympathy for the woman. Still, their last encounter was a memory that embarassed her. Had she let go of her? She didn't know about that, either.
Still, she tried to steady herself, and walked to the Abbey's leader, although with very little confidence.

[Outisakanobody]

Grace wandered, seemingly aimlessly, making no effort to engage the world or people around her. She simply walked.

[Shinzon]

"G-Grace?"
Maria walked beside her, speaking in a timid voice. She felt a stabbing sensation in her gut as she saw Grace being so... disconnected from reality. Wandering aimlessly, shut off from the world.