The Abbey

[Kidney]

The sun broke over this paradise as Tod found himself meditating upon hundreds of individual blades of deep green grass. It was almost a place where Tod could feel every thing that existed here. It was complete awareness. It was the state of mind that brought Tod some peace after a stressful time. It was complete control of the space, the thing Tod wanted most. 

Tod brought this version of himself up, this glossy-eyed extension into the Glade. He walked, slowly, with purpose, the grass itself cushioning every step as he stopped at the bank of the lake. Every stone here, was perfectly smoothed, as Tod liked things. And people. He had brought himself to fix every problem, to attempt to fix everything hard and rough, to smooth it. 

The lake's water's parted for Tod to walk upon this smooth stones. His body was free of all cloth, and he brought himself to begin a small trek to the center of his lake. His steps were unaltered by the smoothness of these mossy stones, and he found himself splitting the water, arriving at the center. 

The center, here, was devoid of stones. What sat here, was bubbling, hot, tar.

Tod gasped, attempting to breathe.

He brought water into his lungs. 

Obsession.

Tod attempted to swim, but his hands clawed at smooth stones, unable to grip. The endless dark expanse was no longer the lake he deemed a safe place, it was a black sea of doubt. Tod looked to where he thought was up, and witnessed the slow fall of a man.

His father's body, floating ever down into this dark expanse. 

Tod opened his mouth, and before he was able to reach out, a face came into view.

An untouched, unmoving face. Blood filled the water around Tod, flowing from the space above his kidney.

Tod flew awake, "Why?!"

He thrashed on the bed, naked body clattering onto the tile, cold sweat nearly sticking to it as he clutched for his pants and coat. He clutched them, armor to the outside world. A uniform for uniquely him. 
Tod slowly brought himself to slip on briefs, followed by pants and tunic. Slowly, he slipped on his coat, over his tattoos, over the stress. Tod shockingly slipped on his socks, and then his boots. He rubbed his eyes, realizing it couldn't be very late in the morning. He could nearly feel it. 
He burst through his door, thundering down the hall, rushing into the main room, looking towards the smothering pews to his right. But on his left, he could see the doors, and the idea of fresh air was nearly dragging him to that end. 

Tod rushed to the doors, pushing them open with a zealous vigor to leave this holy place. 

[Vanitypirate]

"Not that we know of, but... er..."
The nun held her arms close to her, folding them. The door to the reliquary loomed ahead.

"The... guards think they've something to do with the raid."

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/
With a sigh, and a rather tense chuckle, he shook his head; looking over to Courcy as he meandered about the gardens, minding the shrubbery and flowers, taking pause on one display of a simple fig tree flanked by a boirshly grey hued battalion of flowers. Lekalis eyes busied themselves by dancing up and down the display, though they occasionally glanced to his feet for long moments.
"No, No... Aye; you've a point. You... do have a point."
He spoke uselessly as his fidgetish nature subsided and he crossed his arms loosely about his waist, resting his elbows on the spear behind him.

"But... Why's it wrong..? I've my... Own rational as to why it's wrong, but truthfully; they pale in comparison to the Love I've found in Tilly." He explained, chewing on his lower lip as he stared hard at the flowers now, looking over at Courcy with due intensity.
"All my Life I've been told that... Everything I did was wrong. Fancying herbery, not for aide or the like, but for perfumes and soothes. Enjoying bathing and... And the fanciful delights of hair and trimming."
He closed his eyes, relaxing as tension eased out of his neck, and he looked up to the sky.

"Being born. That was wrong enough for the world; a bastard. Legitimized, sure, but born from the seed of a-a-a golden skinned Demon from the East Horizons." He opened his eye to peer down at Courcy,
"Thing is... It's easy for people to see the Wrong. It's a lot harder to see... To accept, what's Right."

Lekalis shifted his weight from one leg to the other, and looked back to the top of the fig tree.
"How long am I to wait for Roderick's shadow to pass? Why should it haunt Tilly wherever she go? Why should anyone's ill fortune and rumor, taint what good they aim to bring, Courcy?" He asked, the words coming quickly, with severity; though they never broke a warm and humbled tenor.
His inkish gaze settled back on the Hellion's own, facing her fully with a tilted crown.

"You and I... Foul deeds plague every breath we take. I'm trying to do right by Tilly; I'd have not pursued her if she didn't harbor similar thoughts."

[Outisakanobody]

"...Raid? What raid?" Grace asks, even more concerned now than before.

Lance was also concerned, but felt that his input was not really needed. He just continued to follow.

[black379]

Courcy's wandering look paused on Blood as he perused the lackluster blooms. She peered over the red of his shoulder, seeking whatever interested him in the flowers' dullness. Seeing nothing, she listened.

There was merit to what he said. She had never outcast herself. She was responsible for her actions, but she had never done anything with the intent to be evil or whorish. Hearing the ex-lord's own plight, Courcy sympathized with him.

At the same time, the way he spoke about Tilly seemed more than wistful. The redhead's brow furrowed, and she swallowed a lump in her throat, choking down a sudden envy. One instance Lekalis bathed her, or shared flirts with her, and the next he explicitly states that she is nothing to bed. The next, he dotes on her closest friend.

"You love her?" Courcy's blue eyes held with Blood's blackish orbs. "The kind where you'd share a bed? 'Like hounds in heat'?"

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/
Of all the inquiries he'd thought she might say, the reactions, all of it... This was perhaps the last he expected.

Not that it was difficult to reply to, rather, because he'd answered it before... Yet; as his features curled up in a show of confused amusement, rather plainly pleased that was her question. Things began to fit together; slowly, to be sure, but fitted all the same.

Lekalis let his features relax, as his hand came up to rub the smile out of his cheeks, raising a brow at her as he let the hand loosely grip his cuirass' collar.
"I wish to love her, aye... Though, as you've said; it is a touch soon." He admitted humbly, his nature reverting to a neutral and light smile.

"I helped her to a bed, the Tavern was... Where Roderick perished. I don't think she'd like being in that place, that night." He shrugged, starting on through the Gardens again.
"But no, again. She wasn't like to lay with me, no matter my... Common witticism." He chuckled, shaking his head; motioning for Courcy to follow, his gaze cast over his shoulder as he slowed.

"... Why do you ask?"

[black379]

As his feet began again, Courcy's too followed his steps. Even without a leash, at least a tangible one, she shadowed Lekalis like a faithful dog. Such was her need for companionship. Irksome as Blood could be, and unavailable as Tilly often was, the two were Courcy's closest friends. Apparently they were more attentive to each other.

There was only the man's word that Tilly shared his wish, although there was no particular reason to doubt it. As he had said, it would do no good to regret and to mourn when new love and new life was readily available.

Hurting, longing herself, the hellion was green to witness Blood's desire for someone else. Rather than answer his question, and admit her jealousy, she posed another question. "How was it you loved Lavinia?"

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/
Another query that gave him pause, not enough to stop his stride as he'd picked it up when Courcy matched his gait, but enough to give her a pondersome gaze; his smile turned to a smirk, a brow raised in surprise before he 'huh'd and lightly knocked on her shoulder with the back of his hand.
"I loved her with all I could..." He explained, perhaps the synopsis of it all as he brought his hands infront of him; running his palms together in graceful, rolling ways.

"... It was... Born from camaraderie. We... I... Was desperate; I'll not play at knowing Lavinia perfectly, but I imagine she fell in my bloody embrace because she was too." He huffed, frowning as he eyed Courcy's poleax warily, "Desperate, that is.
"I thought we could help each other; survive this hell together. And we did but..."

Lekalis paused, his brows furrowing up as his eyes fell to the soils near the Abbey's wall, noting the way the greens of the grass complimented the stone shadows of the structure.
His hand rose up and rubbed his shoulder, he limbered the limb up in a small roll as he looked back to Courcy with a nod,
"... But... Florence showed me that Desperation isn't a reason to fall in love. Not by her... Intent, but for the better part of a year, she showed me..." He smiled warmly, with a content nod as he chewed on his lower lip; a small flush to his cheek as his brows furrowed, despite his apparent jubilancy.

"... Ah, I found the love I had for Lavinia to be the same I've for you!" He chuckled, nodding,
"I... Can't stand the thought of harm, of foul deeds befalling you. I wish you well, and I wish to see you through to the best end to your Life."
\\

[black379]

She hummed, almost dismissively, as if she could disregard her own desperation. It had her flee her home to escape the abuse of her family. It had her seek the hamlet to find some worth in herself. And now it had her throwing herself to men to squelch the fear that she had lost the only person who would have her.

"The best end?" Courcy echoed somberly. She caught Blood's glance over his shoulder and feebly matched his smirk. Any love he offered, at the least she wouldn't be alone.

"I don't even know what..." Her eyes dropped again. As she walked, she swung the end of her weapon over the path like a pendulum. "Family?"

[Vanitypirate]

The blood rushed from the nun's face and her breath quickened, hesitating just before the reliquary's door.

"Y-you... don't know?" She stammered out, holding a finger just in front of her mouth, as if midway through rubbing her jaw.
"A group of cursed... heathens broke through the guard and kidnapped people!"

[Outisakanobody]

"I see...I was occupied...Hmm. One thing at a time. Show me what you have to show me." Grace says, waiting outside the door with the nun and Lance. She was clearly brooding over these recent events.

Lance was even more disturbed by this news, wondering many things with all these recent events.

[Vanitypirate]

The nun nodded, mouth clamped closed as she set a hand on the doorknob, as if the action pained her.
And so the door to the reliquary was open.

--
Reliquary:
The air was foul and acrid, like paint gone rancid. It felt offensive to hold in one's lungs.
There was furniture lining one side of the room, and at its flank was the hole itself: concrete lining its edges like teeth. Beyond it was a tunnel, horizontal...

A guard was there, too, dressed in chainmail and a leather cap. He gave a start as he spotted the trio, but relaxed as recognition came.
"Sister!"

[Outisakanobody]

Grace held her grimace and walked directly to the guard. "Do you know what happened here?" she asked pointedly.

Lance was more overcome by the smell and took greater pains to keep up a dignified air while he shadowed Grace.

[Vanitypirate]

"Er... a carrion worm broke through the old breach." The guard began, pivoting on his feet so that he might watch both the hole, while occasionally glancing to Grace and Lance.
The young nun lurked just behind the group, reluctant to enter.

"Some mercenaries found it and killed the bloody thing-- it got taken to be looked at by the sanitarium boys."

[Vanitypirate]

Abbey gardens:
There it was, just beyond a rose bush and beneath an apple blossom tree: a footpath, only as wide as the width of the shoulders, snaking down the hill, broken only by a worn patch of wall separating the gardens from the outside, and towards a simple, dark shack.
It seemed that this path had been tread upon often.