The sidewalk that leads up to St. Giles' Church is normally not this crowded, except right after service lets out on Sunday. Today, it's standing room only, and that only if you don't mind potentially being thwacked by a stick holding a protest sign. Multicolored signs paint a rainbow all over the front steps of the Church as protesters pound at the closed doors and chant slogans.
It's a rainy, wet early evening for protesting. The breeze is cool and pleasant but all the water really just makes it feel dank and mildewy. The crowd is angry enough to shout through it, even as their marker slogans of "Let him Burn" and "Hell is for Warmongers" melt under the torrents of rain. "Let him burn" is also the current chant being performed in time to the fist bumping of an entire contingent of college students.
Molly is a college student, and she is here, though in her case she's just passing through and isn't among the protesters -- or she would be, if it weren't for the entire place being thoroughly plugged up. She's standing at the sidelines, dressed in a black miniskirt and a white T-Shirt with a picture of Astro-Boy over her chest, with a leather jacket and her favorite rainbow umbrella clutched in hand to ward off the rain. She's just kind of stuck there, watching what's going on, and knowing her probably running the hamsters ragged in her brain trying to work out just what on earth is the root cause here.
Randall is heading towards the church but certainly not to go in it, his shoulders are hunched up as he tries to gather what little warmth that he can. His leather jacket looks oddly dry but his jeans are damp, along with the t-shirt that is visible underneath the jacket. He raises an eyebrow when he spots the protesters, tilting his head to one side and then shaking it when he reads a few of the signs.
As a resident of St Giles, it's fairly normal to find Nia there at any time of the day or night, and even more common to find her walking around and doing things at various hours, depending on how her responsibilities had her working. Early evening seemed to be almost her early morning, as when Nia stepped out through the front doors of the church onto the walkway, she looked decidedly fresh and recently showered. She wore a pair of quite well-fitted blue jeans that rested comfortably on her hips and led down to a pair of solid, strapped up black combat boots that were recently polished. For a shirt, she wore a long sleeved, rich maroon, scooped neck that was cut close to allow for not even a wrinkle of extra fabric, and stopped nearly precisely in line with the waistband of her jeans. All of her long, thick hair was pulled back into a tight French braid that kept it into a heavy rope down her back and out of her face. Bright blue eyes took in the group protesting and widened, her mouth opening in shock. "Que?" Was her only statement, as bewilderment obviously took her over in entirety. She stood there, on the steps of the church, and went about scanning the crowd with dubious attention, unease creeping into her stance. "This never ends well in Brazil..."
St. Giles wasn't a place you'd often seen Jack or his charge May-Zee. Though with the strange weather and the flooding. That's exactly where the pair have ended up. Jack wearing a t-shirt, jeans, work boots, a red baseball cap with a symobol of an O with a U offset. The pair seems to be just trying to make their way through the scene and got caught up in the crowd. The bodyguard trying to keep back anyone whose trying to harass the Motorcross racer.
Dancing along the sidewalk, Auggie was humming a broken tune of random notes, paying more attention to avoiding cracks with her pink galoshes. The hood of her pink raincoat was up and her pink rucksack was upon her back. She was humming and hopping without a care in the world when there were feet in front of her. Many feet. The many feet weren't moving. Blinking her gold eyes, Auggie looked up to see the crowd, their protesting finally filtering into her mind. "This is..." She didn't finish the thought as she took a couple of steps back, scanning for an alternate route.
At the front of the crowd, facing the shouting masses with her fist in the air is a very young woman with dark-skin, her hair wrapped in a brightly patterned wrap. Beside her is a much older woman, with the same dark skin and fiery dark eyes, though the old woman is dressed in the habit of a Catholic nun. The young woman's accent is thick, almost too thick to understand, but she shouts her message slowly and carefully, to make sure not a single word is lost.
"Behind this door, SAFE behind these doors, lies the body of a man who has directly caused genocide in my country. He has denied my people the right to feel safe in their own beds his entire adult life, he deserves no such safety now. That man, that monster who lies in there now, has been selling weapons to warlords and putting them in the hands of child soldiers...I do not use metaphor! Check his MySpace page! The beast has photos of himself with the children, putting the rifles in their hands. No, that warmonger inside does not deserve to rest in peace. He has denied my people peace for so long, he has no right to it! Even if you do not believe in Hell, you must know that this man brought Hell to my people, and so we believe Hell needs to find him. No mercy for the warmonger!" She thrusts her fist in the air and shouts, and the crowd goes wild. "We have come to ensure that no absolution is given to this filthy soul. There is no heaven for Rupert Pryce-Durham!"
"...Oh." Molly has her answer about what's going on, and that's... well, that's pretty heavy. For the barest instance she regrets leaving her knapsack with her flintlocks in it at home, and then just as quickly decides that it was, in fact, the right move today. She scratches the back of her head, and sucks in a breath, looks like she's about to say something to the nearest person, then decides afterall to save it. So instead, she just looks sideways at Auggie, who appears to also be present on the sidewalk. "This is a protest," she offers, "And, uhm, I really have no idea what to do about it." She looks back to the angry mob, and shrugs her shoulders lightly, "Probably nothing, to be honest."
Randall blinks as he listens to the protester, walking closer as he does so. As she finishes her rant, he can't help himself but speak. "Oh do fuck off! Have you even read scripture?" Still shaking his head, he heads over to Nia, placing himself in front of the protestors and leaning against a wall. "Any idea why they're all so riled up?" Folding his arms over his chest, Randall reaches one hand into his coat to loosen the strap on his blasting rod before settling back and giving the appearance of someone who is clearly amused by the goings on.
Nia scanned over the crowd again, shaking her head slowly. She looked at Randall solidly, looking over his face and offering him a slight smile. "Bom Dia, and it looks as though they're a bit on fire about a body here in the church." She sighed and looked back out to the crowd, speaking to Randall as she did so. "There are a good number of people here from Africa, but there's some that worry me more than just having the passion of a people scorned or abused. You see that nun there?" She nodded in indication towards a woman wearing a habit. "That's a Sister of Charity. You might have read about them, though if you did, you probably heard about them as the Cult of Suffering." Nia took her gaze away from the crowd again and looked past it, to where she could see the bright galoshes of Auggie and matching rain coat. "Merda, and Auggie is there on the other side, we were supposed to go get dinner." She looked to see Molly walking up to Auggie and stiffened slightly, but relaxed when she recognized her from some time ago. "At least they don't look to be attacking anyone yet. And I doubt we can just call order on the situation by telling them all that they've gone mad and there's nothing to be done to a dead body to bring peace to suffering." She glanced back to Randall then, worry a bit obvious. "I'm leery of having any of the clergy come out here at all to deal with it, though, it could be highly dangerous. Crowds of humans are worse than schools of piranha."
Jack looks at May with a frown. "I think we need to find another way around this.... if there's another way around to where we're heading. Everything's flooded and now this. I got a bad feeling about this." He says and moves to skirt around the group. "Lot of folks here angry and got a right to be. The only problem the one they're angry with is already got his eternal reward. Just left over clay that's left." He seems to echo Nia and Randall's statements.
Auggie nodded to Molly, "That seems like an accurate statement." A smile appeared, "And good day to you, Molly. I hope you're doing well." She lowered her voice a touch as if it was a conspiracy, "Merry Christmas..." She offered the woman a slow sagely nod. The loud 'Fuck Off' got her attention enough to scan the crowd, her arm jumping up to wave to Randall. As Nia neared, Auggie smiled happily at the woman and waved to the woman, "You are looking happy and healthy. The last was more questionable, but good." Nodding cheerfully, she leaning back and forth from toe to heel.
A limousine carves its way through the sodden streets like a black yacht, stopping right at the sidewalk...or as close as the thronging mob will let it get. A large brick of a man steps out of the car and pushes his suit coat back enough to reveal the holstered gun at his hip before he turns and leans in the door. "Sir, I don't think this is a good idea. We should come back and tend to the body later."
That's when the man in the white silk suit steps out. Well, pushes his way out would be more accurate, as he had to move past the ManBrick to get out of the limo. "Peace, peace my brothers and sisters," he says, pushing back the sunglasses that are entirely unnecessary on a day like today. "I have an appointment to keep with a grieving family inside, but then I will be happy to hear your confessions and cleanse you of your sins. You just need to have patience." He seems to think this is a red carpet event, not a church.
The nun at the top of the steps steps back in alarm, then points at the man and screams. The activists in the crowd shift from angry to riotous in .5 seconds.
Meanwhile, the sun is slipping down beneath the horizon. The first streetlamps are flickering to life, and in mere moments, night will fall.
The young student watches the Limo rolls up, and takes a quick step back from the curb just in case it actually does end up on the sidewalk, and lifts a hand to urge Auggie to do the same. "Watch, watch out, crikey! Thought he was just going to keep going." Molly takes another step back, and her eyes shoot straightaway to the gun under the bodyguard's jacket. "Blimey," she breathes, before pointing her eyes back to the man in white. "Auggie, this is going to get ugly," she adds, "That's John Clement, he claims to be able to cleanse people's sins. For a fee. Total racket, if you ask me."
Looking away from Nia, Randall staggers for a moment and has to shake his head, his eyes watering a little as he looks back to the Brazillian. There is sadness in his eyes as he regards Nia but he does his best to mask it, simply nodding once to her and then turning back to face the new arrivals. Raising an eyebrow as he spots the gun, rage suddenly fills Randall, power surging through his body as he struggles to contain the powerful emotion. With an effort of will, he takes all his anger and rage, the memories that flash into his mind and he bottles them all up and then releases them into the area in a flash of power. Beads of sweat form on his forehead as the power is released, Randall having to take a step forward to keep balance before settling back against the wall. With another effort of will, he takes a deep breath and tries to still his features, doing his best to act in surprise as any technology newer than a century old decides now is the moment to end it all.
Nia's bright eyes widened rather measurably as she locked gazes with Randall, giving the caramel-skinned woman a moment of exceedingly obvious surprise. Her mouth opened and closed without words as she reached over and placed her hand flat against the doorway of the church for stability. She tore her gaze from Randall's at almost the precise moment he looked away, and her eyes fixed to the long car that had pulled up. Blinking to clear the expression of momentary shock from her face, Nia finally refocused on the car and frowned a bit. "That's not a diplomatic plate." Her voice was wavering at first, but gained it's usual strength and surety as she continued through the sentence. A moment later, she looked entirely like her usual self, her hand leaving the supportive structure of the church's doorway. Glancing back to Randall, Nia nodded in a delayed reaction to the earlier nod of understanding she'd received. "I don't like this at all, a gun, and no diplomatic plates. At a church."
Jack looks at May-Zee when the 'televangelist' arrives and as Jack and May are now surrounded by the crowd. "Just sodding lovely." Then there's a wave of magic from Randall goes across the crowd. "And you just lost your cell phone didn't you." He then gestures toward the closest way out of the people, "I'm heading that direction." Then Jack start to try to work his way through the crowd away from the man in the white suite.
Auggie's eyes tracked over to the Limo which she stared at for a long moment as she listened to Molly. "The act of sin eating isn't a new one. Petitioning and paying a temple to pray to a god by proxy is another example. In modern times, we have placebo effects that we take into account when looking at the effectiveness. Fae trade guilt and duty so..." She trailed off a moment later as her gaze moved back to Nia. Her head came forward as she pointedly sniffed at air. The scent of ozone and electronic ghosts of cellphones was enough to make her wrinkle her nose. This immediately brought one person to mind as she looked to Randall, turning her palms up in a general gesture of 'Why?'
Her brand new iPhone, just released yesterday, was in her hands as she hastily tried to shut it down when she noted the crowd, and recognized the possibility that Jack might have to use some subtle magic to get them through. However, she wasn't fast enough for Randall, and she gives a yelp and juggles it as it suddenly blinks rapidly and then smokes in her hand. "Blast it," she mutters. "How am I going to explain this to the insurance?' Looking up to see where Jack has lead her, protecting her from the crowd, May nods. She's wearing a white rain jacket with yellow smiley faces, the hood pulled up and the purple braid hangs down her front. At the scream, she nods. "Wherever. This place just got decidedly worse..." she nods to the college students. "I doubt they even really know what they're protesting."
Two draft horses plod their way towards the church. One is a Clydesdale and the other a grey Belgium. Both move at a sedate pace. The female rider on the Clydesdale has a bright pink rain coat tied to the back of an English saddle. On her back is a backpack that looks heavy. She is dressed in jodhpurs, a pink t-shirt and tall field boots. Her head is covered with a helmet and over her outfit is a reflective vest. Coming towards the crowd she brings her horse to a halt. The chants the screams. It catches her ears. The horse's ears are pricked forward. The draft used to crowds and city streets, he snorts, but listens to his rider. When she and the other rider are side by side she looks him. A nod of her head is given to him. The rider puts two fingers into her mouth. The whistle she creates is loud and piercing. "Eh, listen up, what in the hell are you all doing here?" It is a voice some students may know belongs to Professor Chirp the Tormentor, also known as Professor Horton. "An explanation is needed as we cannot read your signs. Perhaps a little bit of civility before you go down in history as a lynch mob." She shouts above the chaos.
With the clop of hooves, a large, saddled draft horse comes into view. In the saddle sits Gerry, wearing an old but serviceable oilskin duster over jeans and a flannel shirt. Equally worn riding boots rest in the stirrups and a wide-brimmed hat perches on his head. When he sees the large crowd clustered around the church, and on a weekday, no less, he slows the horse and frowns, staring at the assemblage. "I do hope that the vicar didn't reschedule the Blessing of the Animals for today without telling me," he remarks, glancing to Cricket. One hand leaves the reins. He uncaps the flap on a leather case and draws a slender walking stick. "This looks more like a lynch-mob than a gathering of worshipers. There might be trouble." When Cricket calls to the crowd and then whistles, Gerry pats the Belgium's gray neck and watches everyone and wants for some response.
The more militant elements of the crowd start surging towards the limo, and ManBrick the bodyguard shoves the man in the white suit back into the car and slams the door. "Rear entrance. NOW. DRIVE!" He dives in the passenger seat and barks at the driver, who shouts back..."I CAN'T! The damned car is fried! What did these lunatics do to the car?"
Activists swarm the limo as ManBrick dives inside and they pound on the windows and side panels, trying to get to the man in the white suit. "Murderer! Heretic! Burn in hell!" The chants are coming faster, but about half of the students are starting to get uneasy with this turn in the protest, and back off. The small group of nuns have consolidated into a single group, standing by passively.
Then, a piercing whistle carves its way into everyone's ear canals, and a voice that strikes terror in many of the students forces them to drop their signs and back away slowly. Even some of the activists cease their pounding on the car. The young woman leading the group of activists thumps a fist into the window of the man in the white suit. "This man...this man is attempting to SELL salvation to someone who does not deserve it. This soul could not get to Heaven on its own, we will not let him buy his way out of his Final Judgment like he has bought out so many others!"
The sun sets, the last warm light of day drains out of the sky, and night falls. And brings with it an unearthly cold. The temperature drops nearly twenty degrees in the matter of an instant.
"Oh, bugger," Molly grumbles as things turn from bad to worse to ugly. She shakes her head, and takes a step back, pulling a pocket-sized edition of a Bible out of her jacket pocket, she flips to a page, then another page, then stabs a fingertip at the part that she wants. She looks back and forth, then meanders up to the side of the limo, and quite casually hops up, doing a quick jump onto the hood and then bouncing onto the roof. "This guy," she shouts as loud as she's able, pointing downwards at the passenger compartment beneath her feet, "Think he can sell salvation! Or at least he wants the wealthy of the world to think that so they'll pay him to do it. But he can't." She holds up the book in front of herself, "'Therefore my dear friends, as you have always obeyed, not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence - continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling.' Salvation is everyone's own business! You can't buy it, not after the fact!" She snaps the book shut, and holds it up in the air, while gesticulating towards the church. "That man's fate is already in God's hands and it's already decided. Let's stop this, now, yes? If Hell is what he deserves, we can rest easy knowing that he's probably already there."
Seeing the crowd start to swell and that tensions are starting to rise, Randall closes his eyes for a moment as he gathers power. He draws power from the earth itself, the power surging through him until he casts it out in a wide area. Wobbling once more as the spell leaves him, he promptly falls flat on his backside, a small trickle of blood leaving his nose as he lands. Muttering, he looks to see who else has fallen down, raising an eyebrow when he notices Nia. "I might have put a little too much into that one."
Nia maintained her position at the front of the church, her stance one of a protective nature. "I don't know that there's anything to be done here from our end, but I don't want these lunatics getting into the Church. The cult itself might not be destructive with the items or the walls, but they could certainly spew many an unholy word inside and be cruel or rude to the good people that call this place home." Cocking her head to the side, Nia turned her attention down the street, frowning. "Do you hear that? The clanging? It almost sounds like someone hitting a steel pipe or drum or something?" Of course, then the weight of the air seemed to hit her, and Nia let out a surprised gasp as she hunched slightly, then went down to her knees, eyes wide. "Que diabos e isso?" Turning her head towards Randall required more effort than usual, and her braid hung straight down to the ground as if it were tugged by an invisible hand. "What did you do?" Shock and awe resonated in her voice, and her lower jaw hung a little to the side, as if even it were tugged by the extra gravity when Nia's mouth wasn't closed fully.
Jack nods, "At least it wasn't me." Then he frowns as he hears a pause. "That sounds like somebody hitting a piece of pipe. Might be sparter to get to Cricket and Gerry." Then a wave of magic goes over the ground feels heavier and Jack meets the ground. He's trying to push up but lets out a sigh and collapses to the ground. "I don't know whose throwing the magic around. But I really wish they'd stop. I think I hate them. Ow."
Auggie blinked as the crowd went for the limo, glancing at Molly as she started preaching, Auggie took a couple of steps back to lengthen the gap between her and the mob. "There were those examples that I was going on about just a moment ago. More to the point, I don't believe that you defuse an angered mob that doesn't like people selling salvation with the idea that salvation can't be sold. I think that may be adding fuel to the fire--" There may have been more, but Auggie let out a yelp as she attempted her best impression of a lawn dart as her legs gave out and she was pressed under the weight of her backpack. "Please tell me..." She strained to raise a finger, staring at it as it fought to stay down and recurled. "I may have to start training in this... I'll be blonde in... No time."
"Cricket and Gerry?" May-Zee's head whips about hopefully searching for the two. The darkness falls and she shivers. "I don't like this Jack... it's not right." She pauses. "All this water, you don't think it's... Her, do you?" Then she's stumbling sideways, taking a few steps as her legs bend and she tries to spread them to steady the stance, but instead ends up toppling over and laying on her side. "That's... not Her," she decides with some effort, pressing a palm to the ground to try and push herself up. No dice.
"So, you cause a scene at a church that has done more good than you would ever know. Did you realize that during WWII they housed children from continent? They gave protection to those who needed it. During the Great War they offered their services as well. Who are you to judge? To question is good to protest is good, but this! This is chaos anarchy and downright destructive. You are not Judge and Jury." Cricket shouts back in reply. "You have no right to be judge and jury. Absolution can be given but in the end, something of a higher power than you and I will give judgement. History is full of tyrants getting absolution from the church, why would this be any different? In the end, they still find their way to hell."
Her eyes narrow. She looks to Gerry. Her large horse paws the ground with large dinner plate size hoof. Metal horse shoe strikes the pavement. She shouts again at the students and activists, "I would suggest, getting your thing together and heading home now. There are better way to show your frustration at the system and or religion. Listen to the woman with the bible she knows what she is talking about." She hears May. "We are here May!" She calls back.
Cricket is about to say more when Walter, dear sweet Walter has had it.. The earth is moving and is going to swallow him hole like some great dragon of yore. He shies, then tries to buck. Cricket's hands grip the reins. He is fighting the magic. He is then pulled down to his side. Cricket hold on keeping her seat. Her legs gripping the horse like it is squeezing a tube of water toothpaste. "Do not thrash boy!" She shouts to the horse who is struggling to get up. She is forcing herself to breath. The horse groans.
When the wave of depressing force surges through the area, Gerry's horse instinctively shifts his feet, spreading them slightly to give him enough stability to weather the weird flux of weight. In the process, he manages to dislodge Gerry, who tumbles awkwardly from the saddle to land face downward on the ground, splayed like a bug after an close encounter of the third kind with a fly-swatter. Gerry is clutches his walking stick, but he cannot use it for leverage. "Who summoned that panzer?" he groans from the impact.
Protesting to fight for the rights of others is one thing. But weird noises, a rapid drop in temperature when you're already wet, being lectured by your professor, and then being thrown to the ground by...an earthquake? It has to be an earthquake, right? That's enough for the students. They bolt. The activists are similarly terrified, and when they can, they scramble away from the limo and scatter, all save the leader.
The nuns stand passively together, once they've picked themselves up. After a small discussion, one of them breaks from their number and walks unobtrusively away.
The limo's moon roof opens and the man in the white suit, "Father" John Clement, peeks his head out. "Listen...please, listen. I am for real, and I'm not trying to swindle anyone. I know it's unorthodox, and I know it sounds...downright blasphemous. But The Lord chose me. He sent down an angel to give me this gift, that I should be the instrument of his mercy. Me...a sinner, just like the rest of us. But I swear to you, on a stack of Bibles, that He came to me, and I am doing His work. All I ask is...a little faith."
The streetlamps gutter and explode, one by one, and a garbage bin flies across the street and smashes into the side of the limo. The bodyguards, ManBrick included, scream like little girls.
Molly is busy working up to the part where she tells those assembled why it is that with salvation being decided by God and God alone that this is, in fact, a rather silly thing to be protesting, when all of a sudden gravity just kind of grabs her by the wrists and drags her down. She oomphs loudly as she takes a knee on top of the limo; which puts her at just the right spot as the roof opens, and John Clement peeks his head out. "I hardly think..." she starts, and trails off, as she tries to shake off all the sudden, added weight. She bites her bottom lip and chews things over for a moment, before she shrugs, and slips down off the side of the car, just after it gets smashed into with the garbage can. "You know what, who am I to argue? I can't honestly say one way or the other. But I do know," she continues as she checks to see if the limo doors are open and gives one a pull, "You can't actually do any harm, so go ahead. But this is a Church, so please, do us a favor and either leave the bodyguards or tell them to leave the guns."
Looking to Nia, Randall blinks a few times and glances urgently to the people who were moments ago flat on the floor. "This is all getting a bit odd. You okay with not letting this chap in here?" Springing to his feet, he actually raises somewhat higher than he was expecting, getting a clear foot of distance under his feet before he lands. His legs are still a little wobbly after the exertion and he raises a hand to wipe the drop of blood from his nose, staring at it for a moment before shoving the hand into a pocket of his jacket. Directing his attention to the man in White, he raises his voice, channeling his power and his will to make his voice carry over the crowd. "Unless I see someone from inside the Church come out to welcome you and invite you inside, you are not coming in here."
Nia frowned slightly as she stood up, with surprisingly little effort, as her muscles were still thinking they needed to push. In effect, she generally hopped up onto her feet and shook her head, causing her braid to whip around and smack Randall on the shoulder. Giving him a slightly sheepish look, she cleared her throat.
"Look out! If things are flying around, stay in the car!" Nia called to the car, and then looked at the few people were still gathered. "I think it's best if everyone just disperse. And let's let today continue on. We're all wet and tired, and now our muscles feel like we ran a thirty mile jaunt." Nia rubbed at her quads with her palms, attempting to get the muscles to relax again after the brief brush with far too much gravity. She stays there, though, in front of the church, ready to block the portal to the place of worship should she need to.
Lifting her head to look around, May-Zee pauses, then she lifts her head a little higher, and pushes to her feet in a bound, with another stumble as she reaches for Jack. "Come on. Over there, I think that nun has something to do with the trouble... or that van. Let's go." There's a bit of a fury in the dark eyes of the motocross girl, enough fury that she doesn't realize that her brush with the ground rubbed through the plastic of her raincoat, and there's a gash in the sleeve. She breaks into a trot as she follows the younger looking nun. She stoops as she goes to pick up one of the protest signs, and she tears the paper from it, revealing the two pieces of wood that had been hastily nailed together to hold it.
"A bit odd!?!" Auggie yelled the question as she slowly pushed herself up from the ground, gathering her limps under her to push herself rather apelike with how her arms were hanging. Sighing heavily, Auggie growled and started in continuous muttering monologue that was really not for the general public. She walked towards the church doorway. The fact the steps were bowlegged like she had spent several hours horseriding, it was all very John Wayne. Pausing, she rubbed at her hip in earnest, sucking in a hissing breath. With the other hand, she waved to Nia, glancing back at the limo and shaking her head.
Jacks up with May-Zee's help and he's on the run behind her. "No not her as you mean." He's look at May-Zee direction as he points at an escaping nun. "ONe of these days, I'm going to have to write this all down for the boy. " Then he reaches out as he runs towards the 'nun.' His hand reached out and he mumbles something along the lines of, "Something, Something, Like Airbender the boy watches." Then there's a blast of wind from Jacks hand knocking the escaping Nun down.
Walter then scrambles to his feet, Cricket is still on board. She pats the horses neck. "There boy good boy." The horse gets to his feet. She notices blue is missing his rider. "Ger-Bear! Are you okay?" Walter is trembling and snorting. Cricket's blue eyes come to rest on Molly. She begins to mutter and weaves a spell. The spells shifts and moves. Water at the same time is doing the gig. He is starting to sweat. A soft shimmer appears around Molly. Subtle and queit magic.
Gerry exhales. "I'm here, love," he groans. Blue lowers his head to offer his neck for support, and Gerry wraps one arm around it while he staggers slowly to his feet. He turns slowly to see her concentrating, then he looks toward the nun who seems to have everyone's interest. "Sister!" he shouts, trusting that the word alone might slow her long enough to make a difference.
Peter is striding along the street, a lit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He seems lost in thought, until he realizes that there's... something going on at the Church. He slows, looking around at the goings on. The young man saunters up to Gerry, brushing the man's back a moment. "Looks like you've been lying down, Gerry. You alright? What the devil is going on?". His usually subtle Irish accent is in full prominence. "A protest?"
Geoffrey had returned from his country home earlier in the day. Deciding an evening stroll was in order, the middle aged gentleman makes his way towards the church. Enjoying the architecture and the silence that the church usually ofered, the man seems a little dismayed as he comes closer to his destination. Dressed in a 3 piece charcoal shut, Well shined dress shoes and carrying a silver headed evening stick in hand, he pauses and removes a set of spectacles from his lapel pocket and adjusts them on his nose. "Sems to be some sort of Fracas ahead...perhaps even a rumpus." still though, he continues towards the cathedral.
The last of the protestors and students have scattered, leaving only Father John and his two goons in the dead car, the protest leader, and the crowd assembled around the general hullaballoo (or source of some of the hullaballoo if your name is Randall). The protest leader backs away from the car, her jaw set in anger. She has to carefully slow her words to speak. "The Sisters...they say you can take his sins. If they believe, so do I. If you were chosen, then do not do this. Leave it God to judge this man. No money is worth the weight of your soul." She backs away warily, and positions herself in front of one of the doors.
"Father" John manages to calm the screaming from his goons. "It's just a rubbish bin, I'm certain the earthquake just knocked it over." He turns to Molly and shrugs. "You make a good case, young lady, and I agree with you, there should be no need for guns on holy ground. But as you can see, there are attempts on my life, and I cannot let anything get in the way of my holy mission."
Just then, the doors of the cathedral burst open, knocking the protest leader to the floor. "JOHN!" Bellows a man in a suit. "Get in here, now! Time is money, and we aren't paying you to preach to students." A small army of suits march down the steps and surround the limo, all but dragging the "holy man" out of the car in their swarm.
The nun who was heading for the van is knocked to her knees by Jack's gust of wind, and she tumbles down with a grunt. She looks for anything that might have tripped her, then looks back at the approaching Jack and May-zee with horror in her eyes. She turns and scrambles for the van on hands and knees as quickly as she can.
Meanwhile, while all the distractions are going on...something...but nothing visible...tries to open Auggie's Pink Backpack of Doom! The zippers tug erratically each way, and pull on the straps, until discovered. And then they pick up again.
Molly turns around from the car, and marches up the steps of the Church. She plants herself in front of Randall and takes a moment to adjust her glasses. "He's going in," she murmurs. "He *needs* to go in. It's what he's decided and it's not up for us to tell him no, the Church is open to all. God isn't going to let someone's salvation, or not, hinge on whether or not you or I think it's appropriate. It doesn't work that way. So maybe God sent an angel to talk to this man, or maybe he didn't? It doesn't matter. If He did, then we shouldn't stand in his way. If He didn't, then it's going to be on him, not us. Just let him through."
"This is all going very wrong." Randall says, shaking his head and offering Auggie an apologetic smile as she gets to her feet. "I need to figure out what's going on." Looking to Nia, he sets his eyes on her. "I need to concentrate for a moment, could you make sure no one knocks me out while I'm not looking?" No waiting on a response, Randall closes his eyes and focuses his will, stilling his breathing as he works on opening his sight. Perking up his head as Molly speaks, Randall frowns. "No he isn't. I don't care what he needs, or what he thinks he needs. This isn't your home. I have friends who live here. They decide who comes in, not you." Every with his eyes closed, Randall somehow managed to turn his head so that he fixes his unseeing gaze on her. "Are you with these clowns?" Eyes still closed, he raises a questioning eyebrow.
Nia, who had been standing in front of the doors to protect the church from a possible angry mob, jumped forward in surprise as she was nearly knocked to the concrete in a second attempt at flattening in less than 10 minutes. She wheeled around to watch the mob of suited men getting the father, then looked at Molly like she'd grown two heads. "Look, we're not blocking people from entering the church that are supposed to be here, I'm here preventing people from causing damage inside, or coming in as a mob. If he comes in, and apparently he's been expected, that's his choice, but I'm not letting a rush of angry cultists follow him in." Hearing Randall's words, Nia nodded to him and moved back over towards him, now that the door wasn't trying to take her out entirely. "Yeah, I'll make sure no one harms you while you're doing... Whatever it is you're doing." Her Portuguese accent had thickened up with the stress of the situation, and she made a rather obvious and dangerous looking obstacle of herself between Randall and anyone else. The fact that she was poised into a stance that spoke well of her ability to protect the man behind her should be easily understood as her eyes scanned the people around her, and also watched for any flying trash cans that might come hurled their way.
This is going all weird and sideways. Jack doesn't like 'Father' John or the deadman. Though he'd knocked the wind out of the nun. He looks to May-Zee. "We got lucky there. I hope your right about this." As he continues to close the distance following May's lead.
Auggie pulled back the hood of her raincoat as she looked over her shoulder warily. Rather than fight with it, she unsnapped her sternum strap, rolling her shoulders and lowering it to the ground. She calmly loosened the straps and opened the flaps to allow access to whatever as she curiously sniffed at the air. Leaning her head backwards and leaning back she checked on Nia and Randall, offering a happy upside down to Randall in return to his apologetic one. Sitting up, she went back to watching her pack as she started humming 'Silent Night'.
"Well, we'll find out," May-Zee asks as she gets closer to the nun. "Noticed you'd lost your cross in the whole... earthquake business," she directs her words to the woman on the ground, her conversational tone much lighter than the look in her eyes as she offers over the two sticks that are vaguely in the shape of a cross. "With all the stuff going on, you don't want to be without one, do you?" She tries to step in between the woman and the van in the process. "Can I give you a hand up?"
With all that is happening and with the suits rushing out Cricket rides forward. Towards the entrance of the church. She is perched and waiting. Her horse is dancing a jig. Large hooves stamping the earth. She calls to Randle and Gerry, "There is protection in the basement. It is awake. Call it up and offer biscuits."
Gerry huffs and straightens. Giving Blue's neck a pat, he nods to Peter. "Aye, it's a protest of some sort, although more than that I can't say." He glances toward Cricket. "We came here to donate some fresh bread, but found this ..." He waves one hand vaguely toward the litter of brightly painted signs that the protesters abandoned. "I'm not sure /why/ they were protesting, but a young jumped onto the boot of that car and started to scold them, quoting scripture. Then there was something like an earthquake, only not like any earthquae that I've seen." He looks back to Peter. "That's why I hit the ground." He glances toward the nuns, and then the man emerging from the car and approaching the steps to the church. "I want to know what brought so many people here. We'll see soon." Taking Blue by the reins, he moves forward slowly, breathing deeply and narrowing his eyes to focus on the supposed 'holy man' with the sight.
Peter takes a long pull from the cigarette, and glances up to Cricket. "'Lo Cricket. You alright?" Glancing to Gerry, he nods at the man's words. "With the rain, and that thing that showed up at the station, I'm getting a sense that someone or something is trying t'mess with us. Trying t'push us around. We need t'push back, an' soon. Be careful, yeah?" Peter gives Gerry a pat on the back, brushing off some freshly cut grass from the man's back. Stepping forward, he moves over to where Auggie sits? lays? upon the ground. "Hey Auggie. How're you feeling?" The young man inhales deeply. "We're both free of that thing's smell, I see.", he says with a chuckle. "So uh, yanno what's goin' on here?"
Approaching Gerry and Cricket astride the horse, Geoffrey waves his cane in the air as he calls out in his Londoner's accent. "I say there sir! There seems to be some sort of Affray happening in this church yard...and are you aware you and your lady are currently astride a large horse? All rather Peculiar." Picking his way carefully over protestor's signs and around an unconscious nun, he mutters. "Oh. I say." before speaking in a louder voice. "There seems to be a woman of the cloth in a compromised state here! perhaps a glass of water for the poor lady?" All the while, he carries on towards the Church doors.
The gaggle of suits hustles Father John up to the stairs. The protest leader tries to block the doors again, only to be shoved aside. "John," she pleads to the man in the white suit, "Do not take his sins away. That monster laying in the Church deserves to be judged for ONCE in his life. If you are sent by God, then you must know that this man did not deserve heaven." Two of the suits shove the young African woman down the stairs while the rest unceremoniously usher Father John into the Church. Akeela tumbles in a heap at Nia's feet.
The nun knocked to the ground warily reaches for May-Zee's hand, then something stops her and she screams. "Get thee behind me, Demon!" she screeches into the motocross girl's face and angles for the fan, flinging open the door and speaking quickly into a walkie talkie. "You and your warlock will not hinder our great work!"
Auggie's backpack continues to twitch until the zippers give up the treasure trove beneath. Useful objects of all sorts fly out as if thrown, until a can of orange spray paint floats above the ground. The button depresses weakly, until a trickle of orange paint leaks out onto the pavement: SHELIES
Molly's eyes narrow, "You have friends who live here? It's not your house, and it's not their house, it's God's house. I've shed blood for this place, but that doesn't give me the right to decide who goes in or not either. That's God's right. It's *His* house." She plants her hands on her hips, and leans closer. "Besides. I don't know if you're aware, but Hell has been testing Oxford, and there's only two tests left; Lust and Pride. I don't know if this is a test or not, but if it is, it certainly isn't Lust. That would make it Pride, and what do you suppose would be the ultimate sin of Pride? As I see it, taking over what is God's decision for ourselves, that's what! So just... have faith. That's all I think we're supposed to do here. Have faith. It will work out the way it should, but only if we let it." When the protestor is bowled over, Molly turns to go and help her up, albeit too slowly; so she simply returns to squarring off with Randall, hands planted on hips. "Oh, and you owe me a new phone."
Molly's eyes narrow, "You have friends who live here? It's not your house, and it's not their house, it's God's house. I've shed blood for this place, but that doesn't give me the right to decide who goes in or not either. That's God's right. It's *His* house." She plants her hands on her hips, and leans closer, still shimmering slightly from the shield Cricket put around her (that she hasn't actually noticed yet). "Besides. I don't know if you're aware, but Hell has been testing Oxford, and there's only two tests left; Lust and Pride. I don't know if this is a test or not, but if it is, it certainly isn't Lust. That would make it Pride, and what do you suppose would be the ultimate sin of Pride? As I see it, taking over what is God's decision for ourselves, that's what! So just... have faith. That's all I think we're supposed to do here. Have faith. It will work out the way it should, but only if we let it." When the protestor is bowled over, Molly turns to go and help her up, albeit too slowly; so she simply returns to squarring off with Randall, hands planted on hips. "Oh, and you owe me a new phone." She pauses, and tilts her head towards Nia, "I'm not in favor of letting a mov damage anything either, believe me. Just, I don't want to risk letting Hell in the door to Oxford. That's all I'm pleading for."
Randall blinks a few times and then opens his eyes, his eyes going wide and his gaze falling upon Molly who has walked upto him. Seeming to stare through Molly rather than looking directly at her, he winces for a moment before turning rage filled eyes upon her. "I...don't...care!" His lips turn up with a snarl and power fills his eyes. Doing his best to marshal his emotions, he takes another breath. "My friends live here, I'm not letting in a mob. Speaking of Pride..." Clenching his teeth together he takes another breath. "Who are you to tell me what to do Mortal? Get...out...of...my...sight!" There is a rush of power and the wind gusts, a hammer of wind borne force grabbing Molly around the waist and shooting her upwards until she is some ten feet in the air.
Witney dropped The Lovers.
Witney dropped The Hierophant.
Nia watched as a woman fell to the concrete at her feet, and frowned. "Let me help you." She relaxed her stance and offered her hand to Akeela. While helping the woman up, if the woman accepted help, Nia looked back at Molly. "I don't think we can assume anything, not everything is a test of hell trying to get to Oxford. Just like not everything is the Red Court. This guy is expected and coming in, there's no reason to stop him. Just like there's no reason to stop anyone peaceful, and the really evil stuff is taken care of if it even thinks about coming through the door. I'm more worried about what will happen if people just lose their minds and...." Her words stopped as Molly was alighted into the air and hung there like she'd been caught by an unseen fishhook and was being dragged from the pond. "Uhhh..." Nia looked around, then at Randall, brows up. "Hey, manino, o que ha? She's just upset, I'm sure she wasn't going to smack you around or anything."
Reaching out to tug at May-Zee's arm, now noticing the rip in her sleeve, Jack tries to pull his charge behind him. "Whoa... Whoa with the name calling! I mean, it's not like you don't got blue skin. We're just people."
Even though he's putting himself between May and the Nun, the former is peeking out around him, her face flushed at the accusation of being demon. Burning dark eyes shift to look past her into the van, a purple brow raises and she gives a skeptical 'harrumph'. "And what kind of great work do you do that needs kevlar vests?" she asks. "This looks more like some kind of hacktivist HQ, rather than God's work. Where is your cross?" she demands this time, dropping any pretense at assistance.
"May, drop it, let's go. You have a race to get ready for, you don't need to get mixed up in this right now." He gives a bit more forceful tug to get her attention. "Let's go," he reiterates, his voice becoming a little stronger to break through her ire and he finally succeeds, as May throws a final dark look at the nun.
"What are /you/ really?" May-Zee asks in a final parting shot. "You're no nun." Then she allows herself to be pulled away, backing off at first, then turning to walk with Jack. "I'm coming, already" she tells her bodyguard irritably, walking of her own accord from the fracas.
Auggie continued humming 'Silent Night' as her pack was sorted and individual items were tossed out onto the ground by the invisible hands and she leaned over to read the painted message. She offered a cheerful wave to Peter, but didn't stop humming until she finished the verse of the song. "It required warm saline being poured up my nostril and a great deal of coughing. It was a bit of trial that involved more bodily fluids than I would have expected..." She trailed off, her eyes following to the ground as if her words had tumbled out to the ground. The words 'lust' and 'pride' got her to perk up and she shook her head, "I thought we've always been tested. But more to the point in the preoccupation with self which..." Auggie swallowed and stood up, look around her, her eyebrows arching as Molly took flight. "That's disconcerting..." She took that opportunity to pick up her things and put it away the things that were flung out, pausing a moment. "Oh!" She hurriedly gathered and put away things into her pack, then went to grassy area to gather handfuls of dirt. Checking the church and guessing at the threshold, she put the piles of earth on the pavement. "This is much easily than holding a paint can and using it." Nervously, she looked between Molly and Randall, choosing to focus on Randall as he is the one that holds the keys, "Randall... I know she is passionate about her points and may not have found the most diplomatic way to put it, but consider the world. I drive a 2CV which can hit 70 on a downhill. I use the left most lane to be considerate, but sometimes there is only one lane available. I'm certain that drivers wish they could toss my vehicle off the road. Sometimes there is shoulder to allow others to pass either." She licked her lips, "People can't always be considerate, and I'm asking you not to toss my 2CV off the road even if you want to."
"Doing Grand, Mr. Peter." Cricket comments in response. Blue eyes go to Geoffrey. "Yes, I do know his name Walter good Sir." Now able to listen she looks at the group of people and then nun. She shakes her head. Power rises up through the earth to her, the air smells of soil. She tightens her grip on her horse with her legs. Walter tosses his head and paws the ground with large iron shod hoof. The power gathers and then wraps itself around the father and the business men before they get through the door. The earth beneath them begins to shake and dance bucking like a wild horse enjoying a cool morning and a good run. She does not notice Randall or Molly for the moment she is focused on her target and the magics she is wielding. She begins to ride the horse towards the entrace of the church.
With external eyes narrowed to slits, Gerry's sight expands to absorb a variety of visions. One brings a knowing and expectant nod. The rest cause his eyebrows to twitch, and then he takes a deep breath and exhales it with another slow, grave nod. Consciously unaware of his words, he murmurs, "Release her. She speaks well of this place. It is God's house and He will tend it. We have other problems to confront." He looks toward the van and the nuns.
Looking around the Church yard, Geoffrey sighs softly to himself and nods. Tapping the evening stick on the ground, the middle aged man squares his shoulders and speaks brusquely. "Right. Seems that this has even gone beyond a Rumpus and come dangerously close to a debacle. Let's just see what we're dealing with, shall we?" hearing Cricket's reply to his previous statement, he adds. "And a Magnificent animal Walter is Madame!" with that, Geoffrey closes his eyes for a moment before opening them once more and then opening them again...
As the ground starts to quake beneath them, Father John and his swarm of suits tumble to the ground, blinking in surprise. "Two earthquakes in one day?" Father John mutters. "Is...the Devil trying to keep me out? This is an attack, it must be. The Angel warned me this could happen." He turns a wary eye on the assembled group. "Are you agents of the Devil? It could be unwitting. You should let me take your confession."
One by one, the nuns are starting to peel off towards the van that Jack and May had been investigating.
The streetlights flicker furiously, and suddenly, the can of paint clatters to the concrete. The little piles of dirt Auggie placed on the steps of the Church begin to tentatively shift and move, until rough approximations of letters form: liestohim
Molly shrieks out loud as she's hoisted up into the air, and rather completely squeezed. "What the-- What the hell?! YOU BUGGER!" She kicks her legs in the air, finding herself quite well and truely squeezed. "Put me down, right now! Who the hell do you think you are?!" The mortal squirms in the air, and looks entirely like she's keen to throws up. "It's a good thing you're not a bodyguard because you'd be BAD AT IT, you're ignoring your actual stated target to deal with me and I'm not even a threat to you!" She looks down again, and has to suppress vomiting once again. "Let em down or I'm going to vomit on you I swear," she adds more weakly.
Nodding to Gerry, a wry smile forms on his face and his gaze drifts up to Molly. "The spell will be letting her go in a minute, I imagine she'll be fine." Still struggling to contain his emotions, Randall takes out his blasting rod and makes a complicated gesture with one hand and then carves a circle in the air with his rod. Where the circle is drawn, the air ripples and then fades, showing a snowy backdrop behind. Stepping through the circle, a hand reappears a moment later, offering a wave to those assembled before the circle closes behind him.
After Akeelah had accepted the hand up, Nia offered her a smile and a nod of assurance, then let the woman go so she could make her way to wherever she chose. Nia had turned her attention back up and was still looking at Molly for a moment before Randall made the circle of exodus for himself. When he stepped through, she looked back at Molly as if she expected the girl to just fall, prepared to do some sort of rush forward to catch. When Molly didn't plummet the moment Randall was gone, however, Nia frowned and shook her head. "Bom Deus... I will never get used to all the oddities." The fact that the entourage for the man of the hour had all fallen down among each other like a tangle of legs on the way into the church had her frown gone, though, and it was replaced with a slow, amused smile as Nia shook her head and moved over, offering her hand to the people that had fallen in the doorway. "Is today about me helping people up off the ground? If so, I imagine I'm less in league with the devil than say, the Eagle Scouts, or a patronage society." Her wry reply was given to 'Father' John.
Auggie shook her head at the dirt, "Shes lies to him is the best I got here! I am so very terrible with specters and I imagine I would be terribly troublesome to inhabit. It feels very crowded in here sometimes." Moving closer to Molly, Auggie looked up to the woman, raising her arms. "Randall said it would end, and I'll try my best to soften your landing Molly." Glancing back to Nia, she smiled. "Oxford is terribly odd, but it has its gems too. There are some very nice people here." Her attention drifted back up to Molly as she waited.
Almost to the door she looks down the father, "Wait, you have ghosts and something is lying to you." Cricket wheels the horse around and moves towards the van. Poor Walter all he wanted to do is a awesome sauce cart horse who is ridden on occasion now his human is asking him to be destrier again. He snorts, his nostrils flare, his large hoof paws the ground with anxiousness. He tosses his head and chomps at his snaffle. Cricket looks over her shoulder at John. "Stop and do not enter." She looks to Ladies. "You all stay there. Enough is enough. You all have good intentions but you are creating a war where there is no war. Why are there souls of the dead here. Why are they begging you both for help you but you are not listening. You are to be merciful but you are not. Stop and look with your eyes you blind fools." She looks to Gerry then to Geoffrey. "We need to stop this now, this is going to have lasting issues and consequences. All of you look to the earth, see what is says. Liestohim, what does it mean, why did the ghosts write it there."
Gerry turns his still Sighted eyes from the nuns to the writing. "Lies to him," he answers Cricket. "Someone - this 'Angel'? has lied." He still has Blue's reins. He leads the horse toward Molly. "With help, Blue will put a few feet between you and the ground, miss," he offers.
Taking in his suroundings quickly, Geoffrey blinks as he realizes there seems to be a woman hovering above the courtyard. Giving a visible start he points at Molly and quickly mutters "Sonorous!" Before his left leg begins to twitch, then buckle, his eyes cross and he gives a heartfelt groan as his nose begins to bleed. On the bright side...he did what he had originally intended to do before screwing himself up in the process. So...yay for small victories.
Akeela thanks Nia for her help, and before she stalks off to collect the discarded protest signs, she leaves one final thought for John. "If you take the sins from that monster, you deny thousands of my countrymen justice. If you are of God, think of that. Or did you already take their money, Sin Eater?" The African woman walks down the stairs with her head held high.
Father John and his suits are back on their feet, and the suits seem to be in even greater haste than before to usher him inside for the "wake". "I'm sorry, but my mission is from an Angel of the Lord. I have to trust that. She saved me, so that I can save them. She led me here." And he allows the suits to usher him into the Church, and the doors swing shut.
A mournful cry shakes the frigid night air, and the dirt begins to frantically take shape again. Delicate letters shakily shape themselves into a careful script written with a dainty finger. "Saidsaveus." The dirt is fiercely slashed through with much larger fingertips, before the dainty hand starts again. "Damnedus. Doesnotknow."
The air shivers with another mournful cry, two voices as one that fade on the wind. Another shape appears, radiant in ethereal majesty and all the trappings of the glory of the Church, his ghostly form massive as his importance was in life. He shepherds the wailing lovers into his arms, and the three fade away in their forlorn embrace.
Molly is infuriated. That much is clear. However, there is absolutely nothing she can do about it; she manages to swallow back the urge to vomit, as Geoffrey's spell takes hold to cancel Randall's and she plummets earthward; between some minor display of reflexes, Geoffrey's spell, and landing on Gerry's horse, and Nia standing by just in case it all goes wrong, she manages to avoid getting a pair of broken ankles. This, of course, does naught to abate her fury. "I will kill him," she pronounces. "Thank you, everyone who made sure I didn't break my head on the way done. I *do* appreciate it." She folds her arms beneath her breasts, and opens her mouth to say something, just in time to not say it thanks to the dispay of apparitions. "...I have absolutely no idea if we've done the right thing or not," she mumbles. She sighs, and all the tension and anger seeps out of her muscles as she just slumps, standing there in a sopping wet white t-shirt and looking thoroughly bedraggled and cold in the rain. "I'm going home," she mumbles. "Hot shower, coffee with booze, bed. Take care everyone." And with that, she collects her umbrella, holds it up over her head, and makes her exit, stage right.
Nia watched as Molly fell into the pit of multiple saviours and nodded, taking a long, deep breath as things seemed to be coming to a calm moment again. Peering through the rain at the apparations as they seemed to come into visibility, she blinked, then rubbed at her forehead. "Right. I think we definitely need to get drinks with our dinner, Auggie." The fact that the rain was falling didn't seem to bother her much at all, after having been liberally doused with the stuff for what seemed like eons now. Walking over towards the shorter, brightly pink golashed woman, Nia offered her a smile. "You ready? I think I was ready to head out about 2 seconds after I opened the door. Maybe sooner." She gave a wide smile up to Cricket and Gerry and offered them a nod. "You guys be careful, alright?"
Auggie was visibly relaxed as Molly landed without terrible injury. She shook her head, "Trying to kill him would be a terrible idea to attempt. You're walking away without physical injury, and you both are angry. It doesn't get more even than that." Glancing at the entering Souleater and protestor, Auggie shook her head again, moving over to her rucksack to repack it and close it up. She smiled and nodded to Nia as she lifted her pack to put on her back. "Protests are designed to obstruct plans... So in that way, it was a success." Refastening the straps, she offered a wave to Cricket and Gerry on their way out of the area.
"We will, stay safe and find a good dry spot." Cricket says as she looks to closing door of the church. She looks back to Gerry. "We need to put these two aways and we need to figure a few thing sout."
Gerry sighs and pats Blue once Molly makes a safe landing and they help her to the ground. "Leave the rest in God's hands, lass," he says to the woman. "He can tend to his house better than we ever imagine." He leans agaisnt the horse for a moment and simply breaths, gathering his wits before he slowly, and carefully, climbs back into the saddle. He looks toward Cricket, now with normal sight, and nods to her. "Love, we should find our home. I need a long soak, a hot meal, and a few days' sleep."