My Faceless Sin [Finished]

[Nathalia]

His giant ears swiveled, as he listened to their conversation from above, silent as the grave he watched them, amused. So...Mulsej was going to continue talking to her? Very well, the conversation interested him anyway. He could wait until they had finished with their civilities, then he would pull the old one away...it wouldn't be long now...not if the girl's church was on its way, not moving a muscle, as though made of stone, he waited, watched, and listened.

Mulsej pulled the trinket back; he hadn't really expected her to want them...but had thought that they might cheer her up. On the contrary though...they appeared to have made her sadder.

I will not go to that place...

Mulsej simply stared at her, brows meshed together in confusion. "What de'yeh mean, pretty whan?" He asked, pushing the trinket back into his bag. "All ahf yehs go there, tha's somthin' Ah was actually sure ahf..." He paused, groping for words.

"Yeh 'ave tah, Ah didn' think yeh had a choice." He looked up at her, questioning. "Is there a choice, then? Do we get tae decide where we go?" He suddenly looked somewhat desperate, voice rising slightly. "Ow do yeh decide? Kin I change what's gonna 'appen too? Ah...well...ah..." He looked at her face, voice trailing off.

The old Torn then shook his head, smiling bemusedly at himself. "Sorry, 'bout that, pretty whan...jest got carried away, there."

He watched her eyes drift toward the sky, his skin crawled slightly, and he gazed about at the open canvas of the heavens, searching for a winged shape...was Furl about? Had she seen him? If he was here then...

Then what? tell her to get away .....He shouldn't...he should take her with him if he could...

He snapped his gaze back to the Amuni as she informed him of her Church's position...he could never take her back...he'd have to tell her to get away. After all, she had just done the same for him.

He cleared his throat, shouldering his bag. "Ah, should prab'ly get a move on then, eh?" He asked, smiling at her. "Yeh should be goin' tew, pretty whan. Don' wahnt yeh gettin' caught by anyone Ah know either." He pulled himself upright, as though about to drag himself away, then paused. "Twas good talkin' to yehs, Ah must say..." He muttered, abashed. "Yer a good one, an' whaterver yew think, Ah bet yeh'll get inter yer heaven jus' fine." He stared at the ground for a few seconds. "Yeh know...I don' think Ah ever got yer name...yeh think I could 'ave it?"

He looked up to gauge her expression. And froze. A dark shape dropped from above, silent as the stars, he hadn't even heard the wind rustle around him. He turned to the Amuni, looking sorrowful, then back to the shape which had alighted a few feet from the girl.

It was a Chiroptae.

A Carrion.

Furl.



He made an elegant leg to the Amuni. Spreading his red and black wings to accentuate the bow.

"Good evening, my dear." He murmured, his voice soft, and deep, and a bit muffled as he spoke around the pipe clenched in his teeth. "Fear not, I have only come to escort my comrade homeward..." He smiled at her and gestured a wingtip toward Mulsej.

The old Torn's expression relaxed slightly. "Ah, good..." He said, somewhat shakily. "Good of yeh tae come out fer me, Furl...We'll jus' head back then?" He looked back at the Amuni, smiling reassuringly.

"Of course, we need to be getting back to the Lady, after all." He gazed at the Amuni before him, beautiful, like many others, but more sorrowful, her expressions had betrayed more about her feelings to him than they had to Mulsej. He turned, pulling the pipe out of his mouth with his thumb claw, and blowing out a small puff of smoke. "I couldn't help but listen to your story, Lass." He murmured softly, eyes hooded. "And I know there's more to it. If you don't think you're fit for the world of Amuni any longer, then what's keeping you here?"

He tapped the bulb of the pipe against a tombstone before sticking it back into his mouth. "If you'd like, you can come back with us...we've got a good bunch of people, don't we, Mulsej?"

Mulsej looked as though he were caught in a trap. Nervously, he nodded. "Wehll, yeah, we're allright, but we're no' wha' she'd want, Furl, we-"

The Chiroptae cut him off with a wave. "Heh, could you not tell that your friend here has been about Euclides before, old one?" He whispered, voice soft, oddly alluring for a creature of his type. "She may be with the Amuni now, but part in part...she is one of us." He smiled at her, not sure if she had really lived with Euclides before...but certain she had been with them, her mannerisms expressed that much to him.

"You would make a fine addition to our Cast, lovely one..." He tilted his head to the side as he spoke, eyes rolling slightly, before snapping out of his momentary daze and focusing on her. "You would be most welcome, my friend and I can take you home"


((OOC: Sorry for the length O__o They just sudenly wanted to talk a lot...Furl was poking me...))

[silverdust]

She gave a slow smile despite of herself, in light of the old one's concerns. She had never known that they could concern themselves so deeply with matters of the soul. But as a Missionary she knew more than enough about the matters of her religion, matters that seemed to confuse this Euclide. All so final. He had had no idea.

"There is choice, of a sort," her fingers played around her beads, skimming the pearls with a touch that was almost tender. "Those who are pure, my family, they go to Paradise. I, one who is tainted with sin, will go...somewhere else. That is all."

She bit her lip. "Your kind...I only know what I have been told."

It was a pitiful existence in his case, she supposed. His anxiety was undestandable, his hope for something better. But she knew exactly what her fate was, a burden that should've broken her slender shoulders and shattered her faith, but she kept on. Even in light of a coming Inferno, she was still here and she could still try, if just for the sake of her mother, of her father, of her sisters who would never sing again. She felt a relieved start in her chest as the old one made to leave. There would be no further trials tonight, then, and no bloodshed. She furrowed her brow as he asked her name; had he not heard her before? But his condition...it was understandable.

"Biatriste," she murmured, again, and then laughed, lightly and a tinge bitterly, at his well-meaning comfort. If only she could bring herself to believe-

Then the dark shape dropped before her and she screamed, jerking backwards. Another? Had it been a trap all along? Her eyes darted to the old one but he seemed as confused as she, but with a sadness that certainly meant that he knew something about this one...and it would not bode well for her. But unlike the other, this one spoke like a gentleman...like he had spoken, with the same honey, same beguiling ease. She shut her eyes against it, against the memories, hoping that he would just take the other and go. Just go, and leave her with her miseries.

But he knew, he had listened, and he had garnered more from it than the old one and his blissful ignorance. Almost like this chiroptae had reached in her and dragged out her heart, this sharp and careless violation of her secrets. She shook her head against his words. No, it wasn't true. She was an Amuni, that is why she was here. The Church had accepted her, had understood, and she was not a betrayer.

"She may be with the Amuni now, but part in part...she is one of us."

It was like that doubt in her had been given voice and form, and what a terrible form it was. And inside, she knew at least that it was partially true. How many nights had she thought to surrender, to give up on the repentance, on the torment to flee into the darkness and lose herself to shadows. Or worse, had contemplated the taking of her God-given existence. It would be so much easier, wouldn't it? But...her hand touched against the cool stone of her tomb, and she knew with awful clarity her duty. She, who still had her mother's face, her father's eyes, her sisters' voices, their only legacy...she could not forsake them, nor could have the want to. Even if it meant living in hell, she would live still.

"No," she shook her head forcefully. "No, go, please. There is nothing you can give me, and they will seek me soon. Go."

She clutched her rosary tight to her heart and prayed, prayed that they would leave her be.

[Nathalia]

Mulsej tugged urgently at his companions elbow joint, trying not to sink his claws into the thick wing membrane.

"C'mon, Furl. She don' wan' any ahf tha' an' she says her Church is commin'!" He looked up into the Chiroptae's red furred face. "We've gotta go nohw, c'mon..."

Furl turned and gazed down at him, eyes darting in every direction so that his irises were nearly a blur. He smiled, pulling back his lips until the grin became a grimace. "Yes..." The Carrion murmured, his face slowly returning to a calmer, relaxed smile, eyes hooded though still darting. "I suppose that means we should leave her be. Very well, off we go then."

Ja'Kaefurl spread his large wings behind the Amuni, making as though to leap into the sky. He then pulled one large wing around the Amuni, staring her straight in the face, his eyes flicking from his shoulder, to his leg, to his wingtip, to her... Bending close, he murmured into her ear.

"It's never something we want to hear, that we aren't as good for the world as we thought we were, that you are tarnished and unworthy of your comrades. That doesn't mean that you have no where to go, when the Amuni come around to their senses...well..." He winked one eye cheerily, his pipe clacking slightly off of his teeth as he spoke. "Just take a walk in the Park. I know you'll come back to us...you'll never be what you once were. That would require turning back the clock. Farewell, Puppet..."

With a soft initial clap of air, the Chiroptae rose from the ground, flapped heavily a few times, and moved silently off into the night.

Mulsej turned to the Amuni, eyes downcast.

"Sorreh abou' tha', pretty whan." He looked at her face once more, memorizing her features. "G'bye, an' thanks again, take care ah yerself..." He turned and began to drag himself away. Looking over his shoulder he called back. "Yer family'd be proud ahf 'ow yeh did. They'd be glad ah the way yew handled yerself, gettin' back in wit' the others...yeh'll do fine."

Turning to face the dark trees, Mulsej pulled himself doggedly away from the churchyard.

He hoped she would come and find them someday.

Yet he hoped she wouldn't.

[silverdust]

The chiroptae smelled like rot, or maybe that was her imagination again, taking her back to the scene of slaughter, the blood on the ground and on her hands, unable to look away...unable to hate...

She gave a strangled whimper as he spoke, not exactly hearing his words but knowing them from the echoes in her mind. She didn't try to struggle though, already knew her own weakness, her body betrayed by the months under that...other. Futile to try to escape her punishments; she shut her eyes tight and waited for him to go away, for his touch to leave her be. Then came the thunderclap of wings and she was alone with the old one again. She was crying now, that much she knew, but she kept her tears silent, the hiccups choked in her throat.

He still sounded like he cared. Some would call it sweet, even though it was all empty in the end. He did not know, and words were just words. She waited until he went away too, till the dragging sound faded into the distance, immobile as a statue. Only when she was sure she was alone did she let the sobbing come ripping out, covering her face with her hands, shameful as a whipped child.

Come back to them? No, not to them. Not to the Park, not to the shadows. This Churchyard was her prison, the cage of her own design. She belonged here. Maybe she would never be what she once was, never be able to walk among the pristine and pious of her kind, but she had found her place. A place with the half-breeds and the Fallen, but with Amuni nonetheless. She had not transgressed yet...she still had the shattered remnants of her faith, curled tight about her hands. The pieces of mother's rosary, and at the same time, the marks of her failure.

She could not hate them, though, after all the torment. Because it was not in her. She could only forgive, for that had been the belief that gave her form, the singular thing that defined her as a Faith. The belief of forgiveness above all things, to love her enemy, as had been taught by her mother and father and sisters all...to forgive the enemy who had killed them all before her eyes...to forgive...to love...

No, she could hate no one but herself, could punish no one but herself by living day after day in a hell of her own creation. But she lived, at least. There came the sound of footsteps, anxious in their speed, and while her body still racked with sobs she felt the arms encircle her and hold tight as an angel's wing. She was not alone. She needed no Euclide cast to be accepted, stained as she was, she needed nothing...

Nothing but forgiveness.

_{((I suppose that ends it then ;D Thank you so much, it was one of the most entertaining RPs I've had, period <3 ))}

[Nathalia]

((I agree, that's a good stopping point. This was the best RP I've been involved in so far, I loved the character development we got here. Thanks again! Any time you'd like to play, poke me, you're a lot of fun!))

~Nathalia