Half-Past Midnight (Transition)

[Peter Emile]

The air was what he needed now. Once he had gotten out of the VIP room, it had been a heavy reek of humanity. For a man who did his best to keep other humans out of his domain unless he invited them in, and knew they were not going to wear offensive cologne's... The acrid reek was bringing on a need to escape. He was thankful she had armed him with gloves. As he pulled them on, the second layer of armour against the chattel, and his hands was a soothing presence indeed. With that, both of his hands found their way into their respective pockets, safely blocking access to the things that belonged to him, and from there, he made his way first to the dance floor, discovering that this entire club was filled well beyond what he believed the fire code was, making his progress problematic.

If he had been a more impetuous man, he would have started a fight, but for the Inquisitor, that was beneath him simply to get himself out of the club. One did not become a God by stooping to whatever base impulse would get you ahead in the short term. And he would be a God. He swore that to himself. Chaos would bow to him, and so would anyone else who had discounted him. It was only after he reminded himself of that, regaining control of his impulses, that he saw the path. A few quick steps, and he was cutting through the crowd.

He reckoned it was perhaps quarter past midnight when he finally cut through the building. And that meant he was making excellent time. Ten paces out of the building, and a scan of the area, and he was finally at peace. A single breath purged the heat in his body. Not like the Void Dragon had. No, this was... This was what the Void should have been. The emptiness of this cold air brought memories back to him. Happier memories. The snow was what he had missed most about Canada. The people he truly wished he could have brought with him, but he KNEW the snow would never have come.

The icy air brought him a clarity he once lacked. He was able to triangulate his location based on four street signs, finding North Street with little difficulty. And when his eyes locked on something he had so sorely missed in Tokyo, all plans of finding the card's home were lost. He made off post-haste for the cathedral he saw two blocks away, the spire of a cross telling him that he would be at long last free of the miserable pall of his guilt.

To his surprise, and his pleasure, the card had been guiding him here it seemed, from the address. Approaching the double doors, Peter stopped at them. He set his hand on the door, and for a brief moment, found his eyes were colder than he remembered.

“How long has it been since I abandoned you? How many times have I strayed? Why do you take me back, Father?” There was no rhyme or reason to it. A heretic, a blasphemer, worshiper of false idols, and servant of demons... And yet.

If I did not take them away, you would not grow.

“If what He wants for a Birthday Present, is for me to come back... Who am I to gainsay Him.” He gently pushed the doors open, walking into the Cathedral.

[Deleted]

The light in the cathedral was warm and inviting. There was a small puddle in front of the door from where Karrl had come in and those of the parish had left so quickly. Peter was, of no fault of his own, naturally adding to the growing wet pile with the snow that melted and slid off his jacket and shoes(boots?). The main portion of the cathedral was empty but for the usual group of candles, and the statue at the front of the alter in the back end of the room.

Father George walked out of the back area. His skin was fair and held a bit of color in his cheeks from the warmer room he had left. He was pleasantly bald, and held a rather well shaped head. He smelled like.. gingerbread… indeed a close examination would show he had three cookies stowed, un-iced, in one hand. The other held a mop. He walked unhurriedly toward the entrance with a sort of hunched over walk. There was ever the faintest trace of limp in his step that suggested the weather was not his friend to his age. He appeared about mid to late 40s…

His bright stormy blue eyes however betrayed none of the age. “Ah, “ He took note of the card in Peter’s hand. “Another Traveler.. my my…This will be a busy night. Come in, Come in. Welcome to the Holy Name Cathedral.” He motioned Peter in off the doorstep with the broom. “One of the other Travelers just finished baking some delicious cookies. I am Father George, a priest of this Church.”

“If you give me but a moment, I will clean this puddle up so no one slips and falls while I am between rooms. We must walk through the first portion of the school to reach the back rooms we have converted into a dormitory. No doubt you will want join the others.”

[Peter Emile]

(For reference, Peter's voice: www.youtube.com/watch?v=rf_3ZTp4eG4 )

Peter addressed the man instantly, on seeing him, with what was instinct, dredged up from his long past. “Domine Iesu Christe, Filius Dei, miserere me peccatorem.” (Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a Sinner.) While this was usually invoked loudly, given the proximity, and the solemnity of the empty place of prayer, barring Peter, George, and the Water, he spoke it softer, more controlled. His focus was first on the man of God before him, and then for a brief moment, he looked at the crucifix, and softly incanted the prayer one does before it. Stepping in accordance with the Father's wishes, he tried to find a place to stand so as to cause the least amount of additional work for him. “Can I aid you, Father?” He felt awkward at being in this holy place after so long, and it was not long before he felt the need to speak of it. “Before I face others... Are you free too... Take a confession, Father? I... Have not been able to do so for roughly five years. And I have to ask regarding a possible circumstance, as to whether something is a mortal sin, or was beyond my power.”

Inhaling, taking a shaken breath, Peter spoke. "I... Was, an Agent of a Dark Goddess, from nearly the moment I landed in Crystal Tokyo, until the moment I was bested in battle against the Guardians of Mars, Pluto, Terra, and Luna. I was under the sway of what is known as... 'Chaos Taint'. It is a spiritual infection which can at times modify one's personality, and at other times outright control it... And I do not know which I was infected with. All I know, was that one night, I sat down at a bar for drinks, and in the course of six hours, had lost my faith in God, and turned to the worship of the Goddess 'Chaos'." Peter closed his eyes, exhaling softly, feeling the weight of all the lives he had destroyed. "I am responsible for... countless deaths, the infections of others with that same taint, the spreading of darkest idoltry, trafficking with both heretics, and demons, known as 'Youma', and the attempted enslavement or extermination of the human race. I called a Demon into my own body, channeling it, and acting as a composite gesthalt mind between it and myself... A Dragon of the Void, as I remember it... I am responsible for the attempted murder of my sister..."

Peter shook,and then fell to his knees. "I nearly killed her. I had the sword in my hand, a blade of deepest Night and Entropy. I can still smell the ozone, where the molecular structure of matter was blasted apart... I can still hear the screams of the people the Youma killed. And I can remember those blasphemous thoughts. Decrying hope, decrying purpose..." His eyes closed, and for a brief perfect instant, the vision he had, as he fell. "I remember... All of it, with such clarity."

[Deleted]

Father George rested a thin, knobby hand on Peter's head. "My son, since the beginning of time the forces of evil have sought to corrupt men and women, old and young. It is not all that unheard of for such a thing to leave a scar, a mark on those who bear it. Not to have it weigh them down, but so that men and women can in turn help those who also have such a mark. It is compassion. What you use that knowledge for, to find compassion with your fellow humans or to let it drive you back into the arms of Sin, I can not say. That is your journey."

He raised his hand and bent down so he could put that same hand on the shoulder of him who fell before their Lord. "It is not unheard of for a man to loose his faith in God. It is not unheard of for a man to find forgiveness. But to focus on these things, and carry them around as a heavy burden will only drag your head down until you can no longer look up at our Lord?" He shook his head. "Come. Let us adjourn to the confession booth and allow your burdens to be lightened. Then we shall see about your penance." The kobby hand squeezed the shoulder and then it too, retreated. The priest lead the way back toward the confessional boxes.

It took both along time, and a short time, to ween the burden off Peter's shoulders. It was not a process to be rushed, nor hurried. Father George was a patient man, even for a priest and he listened and asked questions to gain a further understanding on the matter at hand. In the end however, there was a pause... lengthy in that it was obvious Father George did not jump to words.

"I believe, my son, that to atone for what you did, you should spend the next five years seeking God's will. Be compassionate to your fellow man. Help those who can offer you nothing in return. Learn to heal so that you can main up for the pain you have caused others. Protect where you once caused pain. As you once invited in a demon, invite instead an angel to live in your soul. Let this be your driving goal for five years. When it is done you will have atoned for the sins of serving a Dark Goddess."

[Peter Emile]

“<Thank you, Father, for listening... And for being able to help me. I have carried this darkness with me for a long time. I am left wishing I could have made amends to those I hurt most when I was still in the Dragon's grip.>” He spoke softly, the Latin sounding almost a bleak whisper, his voice robbed from having to give the details he had, including a complete description of what Chaos had looked like.

“<Are there any texts on Angelology in the Cathedral, Father? I am steeped in knowledge of Daemonology, having been able to summon the servants of the Abyss as I needed, but I have never had the... Gall? Courage? To try and call on the servants of the Lord in such a manner, especially inviting them to inhabit this flesh.>” He leaned backwards, and he shaking of his hands, and the slight clicking noise, gauntlets that were near bonded to his flesh rattling with his sinist and dext. “<The travelers you mentioned... Do any of them possibly show the signs I had described? If they do, please Father, I beseech you to tell me. This taint is... I liken it to a disease, but a plague is just as apt.>”

[Deleted]

Father George took that as a motion to leave the box. He stepped out and stretched, popping a few calcium deposits as he did so. "Ah my child, when I say invite an angel I do not mean litterally. As far as I know our world is not like the one you left in which we have biblical forces actively working in our every day lives. Of course, things are changing, with the arrival as people such as you and Maeve." He rested his hands behind his back and loosely folded them. "Indeed, each of you is so different. One is from a distant future, Maeve is from six years in the past of a world, not unlike our own- and yet not our own.. and You have spoken of wonders I have never heard before. I am afraid I can not judge that which you speak of. I merely have been guided by God to offer sanctuary to those who require it and made room for them in the old school. Donations of clothing and furniture were given from old attics and houses and there are is plenty of room for the crafty."

He tilted his head toward the school portions, thoughtfully noticing the water marks on the floor. New ones. Hm. He pulled out a not so warm gingerbread cookie and ate it quickly. "I am getting old. I used to be able to stay awake all night without the help of sugary treats." He pulled out another cookie and offered it toward Peter. "Maeve is in charge of the school and it appears I missed greeting some more travelers while we spoke. If you wish to avoid the others, I believe they are two buildings in the dormitory. If you don't mind a couch, I believe the school office has one if you would prefer to spend some time without meeting the others."

[Peter Emile]

Peter smiled warmly, getting up and out of the confessional himself. “... Ahh... No thank you, Father. I ate shortly before I left the place I landed in, inside this world.” He addressed the material offer first, a pleasant, but cool expression on his face, the normal face of his distant thoughts. “Forgive me, I have yet to allow it to sink in that I am in a new world, and that I do not need to fear locking blades with servants of other faiths, Corporeal, or Ethereal... It is a strangely enlightening thought, that perhaps the taint may not be here.”

Peter looked at the mop, pondering for a moment, before shaking his head. "If she is the one in command, then I am obliged to submit myself for inspection." Where is that sensation coming from. This hollow chill... Who is Madelyne? A flash of a face he thought he knew, a feeling of anger, that he knew, at being so long contained. The emptiness settling into bleak hatred for a man Peter did not know. A Flash of his younger face, but when did his eyes turn to Garnet... Go back whence you came. I will deal with you in the morn. Locking the memories he did not possess away, and throwing them into their own Age, he used the Iron Will that had kept him alive, before he bowed to Father George. "Call if you need my assistance, Father. Thank you... For everything."

Turning, he heard a voice, it was inside of him, base of his neck. How long have you been fighting with your minds clouded with that brand of sweet poison. Peter knew, instantly, that he would not be sleeping much. That boded ill. With that, he headed for 'Maeve', relying on the smell of baked goods to guide him.

[Deleted]

"Of course, just follow the hall through the buildings and it ends at the kitchens. Maeve should still be there. If she's not, I believe she took a room on the attic floor." Father George smiled to Peter. "I look forward to speaking with you again, my Son."

As Peter left the Father, he would also have an opportunity for the soft murmurs in the doctors office. However the lure of baked goods proved to strong a lure and he walked by without interrupting the occupants. He journeyed through another covered passageway and entered the warm (or cool) (60 F) half entertainment room, half cafeteria. Snow white, the Disney version, was playing on the TV- though somewhat low. A small baby lay cooing on his tummy watching the picture. The babe seemed to be edging more toward sleep then anything else as his eyes drifted closed, shot open..and drifted close again. As for the adult of this situation, she was "heard" before she was seen- in the kitchen openning oven doors, closing them... and muttering to herself as she worked.

"No Xavier for the last time I don't know. Yes I will stop my little baking fest as soon as this place smells less like a school and far more like a home. These poor people need some place that remotely resembles home. God knows I do." a pause.. "Charles thinks he can feel someone but they are different. Odd." It was with that comment she poked her face around the kitchen window and smiled upon seeing Peter. "Oh! Another guest. Come in come in. Don't mind me, Charles was just starting to drift to sleep while I finished up these cookies." She had flour.. everywhere.. in her pink hair, over the front of her borrowed apron... "I didn't realise we had company again. Karrl just went upstairs and the father mentioned waiting for others out front some time ago."

[Peter Emile]

“When He left them, he said he went to a manor with many rooms, to prepare a place for us all there. Please, do not be ashamed of your work, or disparaged from it, Lady Maeve. In doing this form of work, you work with Him.” Peter addressed her with warmth. His eyes were cold, but it seemed an affliction, not his nature. His emotional state was... subdued, but faintly pleased. And approving. “My mother did not often cook, given how busy her life was, but when she did get the chance to step into the kitchen, she would often look like that.”

His chuckle was soft, his quiet voice skill making itself well known. “I am Peter Emile, title Inquisitor.” He paused for the faintest of seconds, before sinking in his knees, and giving a low bow, the time in Japan making itself known. He sincerely hoped she understood the honour he paid her, since she was the one in command. Once he got up after a few moments, straightening, he inhaled faintly. “Do you need help? I can take over if need be. I am sure 'Xavier' would appreciate having you to himself.” He did not ask for an explanation, but he was fairly sure no one else was here. A wish for her safety, and trust.

But he was well used to there being others one could not see. “I almost did not present myself, since I knew you were busy. But politeness outweighed pragmatism. My apologies on taking as long as I did in finally making that choice. Father George and I... Had a matter of faith to speak of.” Melancholy. Stronger than any of his previous emotions.

[Deleted]

(Sigh sorry about the whistle post, I tried to fix it last night but the internet and proboards had an arguement on the matter..)

Maeve smiled wistfully and motioned her hands toward the ovens. "All that I have to do is clean up a bit and wait for that last batch to be out of the oven. Charles is..." She paused then looked toward the living room. "Yup, just fell asleep. He had a long night. That's the second time since he was born we found ourselves plucked out of what we knew and into something we didn't." She gave him another smile and motioned her hands. She did understand the gesture, but that was mostly thanks to having japanese american's in her household. One did pick up 'somethings'.. "I'm just sort of incharge by design, less by choice. I'm sure someone else.." She paused then frowned. "Shush. I'm trying to have a conversation."

She rolled her eyes heavenward and then smiled back to peter. "Sorry, I have a..." She paused as if searching for a word. "A spirit, of sorts, who shares my headspace. That's Xavier. He's.. opinionated." She waved her hands again."However I won't turn down the help. I'm afraid I simply can't rest yet, this evenings been far to exciting and until I know if some of our students didn't arrive with us, then I will go to bed. My heads all jumbled so I can't use my gifts to discover their locations."

She mentioned nothing of his needing time with Father George and matters of his faith. But there was a small smile and a nudge of warmth and forgiving sent his way with her small gift of empathy. She did understand, but it was between him and the Father.

[Peter Emile]

“Javier, if you are so intent on sharing your opinion, perhaps you would have the courtesy to do it audibly. I am more than intelligent enough to understand it, I just unfortuantely cannot hear you when you are whispering at the lady.” Peter's tone was... direct. And his glare at where Maeve's thyroid would reside would seem intimidating, if she was unaware of it being the residence of the 'Vishuddhi'. None the less, Peter's emotions were warm towards Maeve, just annoyed at Xavier. His address of Xavier by the root of his name however... That had been unintentional.

“Power sought is power corrupting. Power forced is power enlightening, Milady.” He seemed pleased that she could convey her emotions so clearly. Whether this was a gift of magic she possessed, or if it was otherwise, it comforted the Genius. She was not wearing the garb of a Senshi. THAT meant, as far as Peter was aware, there were no Senshi here.

Thank Michael for that. “So, how can I help?” He kept his hands hidden. Desire to avoid conflict was the emotion as he kept them in his pockets.

[Deleted]

Maeve fluttered her eyelashes at the glare then gave a small smile. “Forgive me.. Normally I’m a little better at conveying things. Xavier can only talk via telepathy and that’s a channel we share. However due to.. Choices of his… I limit his contact to the outside world. Especially when he’s upset.”

“It wasn’t meant to insult your intelligence in anyway.” She gave him a small smile. “As for help, there’s not much to do but wait unfortunately. I dragged up a cot mattress up to my room for the night- though at this rate we’ll,” She motioned toward the baby. “Probably end up sleeping down here just to keep an ear out for any more wandering feet. Xavier ran a school for children with gifts and late nights were part and part of the whole guiding young people gig. I’m a bit new to it, but I can see the importance of having a landing place to get organized before trying to take on the world.”

She crinkled her nose. “Xavier doesn’t recognize you though, so you weren’t’ part of his students. Not surprising of course since Karrl also wasn’t one of his students. Anyway if you want to claim a room and raid for furniture before others have a chance to do so, the furniture is on the… third floor I think, and the rooms are second, fourth, fifth and sixth floors and a few more in the attic where I stole space. Not that any of us have much, but… I’m not sure how we got here, or when we’re going back home so…”

She crinkled her nose and smiled a bit more toward him. “I’m afraid my gifts are rather limited to helping around the house and keeping tabs on small children.” Underscoring her gifts made Xavier chime up again.. thankfully still all up in her head had no one else’s.

[Peter Emile]

“It is not your fault, Lady Maeve. I was under the assumption that he was choosing to hold a secondary conversation without my hearing.” As he spoke, his accent seemed to shift, becoming softer, as he lost himself to manners he had long forgotten, and gently eased into another role, one he favoured. His emotions became subdued, muted and relaxed. She gave him peace, and relaxation. “If that is the case, perhaps I should take over sentry this night. I am nocturnal anyways, and it is better if you and your son have the benefit of a nights sleep.” He felt... Protective of her. A memory not his own. A will beyond his own.

“One does not challenge the world by ignoring their own needs. They learn to make those needs match those of the ones they guide. Be the change in them, or in the situation. And more to the point, my experiences in this world so far, tell me that... Whatever challenged you in your world, may not have so strong a foothold. I know that the Darkness that was in my own home is missing entirely from this one.”

“I can not share much about my gifts... Please, forgive me. I would be indulging in vainglory if I told you.” He offered a formal bow. “Once the cookies are done, please, retire. I shall wait, and guide others as needed.” He took the moment to note down the information she had given him, so he had copies to distribute. He paused, before looking at her hands. “Forgive me that I must ask, but am I addressing a Widow, or someone hurt in a different way by the failing of a man?” No emotions suddenly, or if there were any, he was keeping them muted. If she dug deeper, faint hints of curiosity.

How deeply am I taking you under my wings? Are you another Astra?

[Deleted]

Maeve fluttered her eyelashes and moved to pluck a cookie from teh counter. "When your the mother of a baby, you learn to sleep standing up." She winked toward Peter and took a bite of the cookie. She chewed, thoughtfully as she listened to him. WOuldn't tell her his powers? Well She 'supposed' it was kind of rude to say hey show me your special bits... but still... How did she know where to put him? Or how to use...

Nice Xavier, I almost didn't catch that. We don't use our friends. We ask them to do things. Not use. Using would suggest we aren't willing to get our hands dirty.

A grumbled rumble in her head from the mind trapped. But no words, nothing to really move her attention- not even briefly except to scold- from Peter.

Let him have his secrets. She forgot she had someone to protect them from- and Xavier had his own agenda. She smiled a bit as he asked about .. Xavier.. "It's a difficult question to be sure." She paused, taking another bite of cookie to buy her a few seconds on how to answer. There were things that should be private between just her and Xavier. Oh, she'd probably have to explain to any of His students who showed up- but how many would believe the villainy capable of a desperate, old man?

Not that old.

She smiled, near smirked as Xavier finally said something. He usually did when she poked him enough. It wasn't good to have him brood, he got darker in her head when he brooded. Not enough people he knew, or remembered came through with him and her, and it bothered them both. Deeply.

"It's... Complicated." That's an understatement. "I'm not a Widow, I was never married. Charles was something of... a surprise of a wild evening out." That was safe enough. She gave him a smile. "We all have hurts from relationships, that's kind of normal."

Oh baby was that pushing it just a little.

There is nothing to be ashamed of. You should feel blessed I chose you.

She narrowed her eyes just a little bit as she shoved Xavier in his "box" for a time out. That had been low even for him.

Sensitive subjects indeed.

[Peter Emile]

Peter was silent at that. It was a silence that belied a gathering shadows over his eyes... As Lorekeeper, he had done terrible things. But he had held matters of the heart, and of sex, as sacrosanct, and above reproachful behaviour.

In the moment, his anger was almost palpable. He was seemingly clung to by the shadows, and he heard a voice he knew all to well. He blocked it out, his rage leading him to make tight fists in his pockets, the grinding of metal on metal just barely audible. His face belied minuscule amounts of information, though his eyes were seemingly bleak, and overshadowed. “To Sheol with normalcy. There is only what is right.” He was more than aware of the hypocrisy. “If the lowest of spiders who did not have the decency to wed you ever shows his face, I will personally remind him of what being a Man is about. It is most certainly not acting like a worm.” He was clearly not talking about dragons when he said it. “I will enjoy it.”