The history books forgot about us and the Bible didn't mention us. Not even once.

[rattle_thecages]

If you were to ask why a somewhat weepy Rachel Dawes wound up in a bench across from a church after a long and emotionally exhausting day, she'd be hard-pressed to give you an answer. She simply doesn't believe in coincidence, so she takes the fact most of her recent conversations have revolved around faith seriously. She doesn't, after all, leave

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[livemyowndeath]

Topher doesn't have any particular conscious reason for visiting churches today. If he's asked, he might say he's looking for answers, or that he's thinking about how their decorated. Or maybe it's just that he finds them comforting.

Topher comes out of the church with his hands in his pockets, a little bit lost in thought, but not so much that he doesn't notice Rachel. He can't help but notice people these days; they make him hungry.

He's got to walk past her on his way to where he parked, and that lets him see the expression on her face. "Y'know, they don't mind if people just go in to think, and the windows can get really pretty as the sun sets."

[rattle_thecages]

She doesn't like to cry. She can remember the last time she did cry, could conjure up the image so effortlessly, with a strength that still manages to surprise her.

Seven years ago. She'd believed her best friend to be dead and grieved him for seven years.

"Are you sure I can go in?" Rachel attempts a smile. She doesn't know if she's successful with it, but it's clear she's joking. "I'm a lawyer. There might be a clause about us."

[livemyowndeath]

Topher smiles in response, since he respects the attempt at humor. "Oh yeah. If I didn't burst into flame, I don't think you will either." And that's the closest the boy as come to admitting that he's not a normal human in a while. It seems like his time in the church did him a little good.

Topher tilts his head a little and considers her. "Y'know, I'm not sure I can offer this without sounding way too full of myself, but if you need an ear to listen, I don't have anywhere to be for a bit. If you don't want to go inside and talk to the Big Guy, I mean." He's offering mostly because he's the sort of guy who looks out for other people, but he wouldn't mind talking either. Besides, there's a faint smell around her that makes him think she's been in the Conrad basement recently. He could be totally wrong though. He's still not used to the improved sense of smell he's got.

[rattle_thecages]

"That doesn't sound too full of yourself, it sounds very kind. Thank you."

And he would not be wrong at all. Whenever Rachel isn't exploring Chicago or ending back up in Grant Park - it always goes back to that place, she feels if she goes back she will see something she did not see the first time around - she's in her room at the Conrad's basement, writing away her proposal.

"I'm much better at listening to people's problems than I am talking about mine," she admits. She hesitates, before returning his smile.

"I'm Rachel."

[its_notluck]

Claire is one of those types who likes to wander when she doesn't have much to do. She's not supposed to work for a few hours yet and so she's taking a walk to further familiarize herself with the area. Plus she's keeping an eye out for a certain someone and, in doing so, she happens across someone else who looks like they're having a very long day.

"Rachel?" She questions, moving closer to the other woman who seems like she is in tears. She's wondering if it's just because it's been a bad day or if it was her empathy going haywire. Either way, her heart goes out to the brunette as she gets closer.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" She looks concerned, moving to sit down beside her.

[rattle_thecages]

Rachel looks over at the frail woman now crossing the street with her grandson. They're both just leaving the church Rachel herself was at moments earlier. Her name is Inga. She and Rachel spoke earlier.

She gripped my hand as she cried and I know now what it feels to be destroyed.

Inga just lost her husband. They were married for forty years. She will spend the rest of her day thinking, how do I live in a world that does not have this man?

And Rachel can feel it.

"I'm okay, I promise." She even laughs a little to prove it. "It's not...me."

[its_notluck]

"Empathy?" She guesses with a knowing smile that doesn't quite warm her eyes because she feels bad for the other woman. Reaching over, she touches Rachel's shoulder to try and offer her some support.

She's feeling rather calm at the moment and she's hoping that it will make her friend feel a little better if she is around someone who doesn't have crazy emotions flying around.

"Have you talked to Peter at all?"

[rattle_thecages]

Rachel is tired, too young to be as tired as she feels. But then, it isn't necessarily her exhaustion, is it? Sooner or later the emotions that aren't hers will fade away and she'll only be left with her own.

"I did," she replies with a nod. Rachel stiffens at Claire's hand on her shoulder, but it is only for a moment. Ebbing and flowing, lacing and curling into her like vines, she can feel the calm soothe over to her and dulling everything else.

It's all tangled up and she believes if she remains still while there is chaos inside of her, it'll be less painful.

"We spoke briefly and I know what I have to do now." She smiles gratefully at the younger girl. "Thank you for getting him in touch with me."

[thebelletolls]

Annabelle just so happens to be one of those angels who practices Catholicism and attends church regularly and very much believes in God. It's sort of an anchor for her - as an angel of death, she needs that something to hold on to.

She's been looking for a new church to attend. It's... more difficult than she'd hoped it would be. The most recent church she's visited, the one she's stepping out of right now and the one Rachel is sitting across from, didn't really strike her as a church she could call home. She has faith that she'll find one eventually, though.

As she passes Rachel, her stride slows to a near-halt. She's not one to stop and talk to strangers, but there's something about this woman that strikes a chord of sympathy in her. She turns around.

"Are you all right?"

[rattle_thecages]

It isn't that she's not all right. It's that most of the people she's come in contact with that day are not.

Her emotions she can understand, hers she can compartmentalize and make sense of - most of the time. What she can't understand she gives thought to, gnaws the feeling and the memories that inspire it to the very bone until there is no more mystery. Until everything is a clearing.

She can't live any other way. And yet. Now, now there is too much for her to know what to pick apart, all of it crashing into her, one jolt in her chest after another. Joy, anger, fear, longing. It's a lovely and terrible burn.

"Hello." Rachel draws in a sharp breath; clears her throat once she realizes how raspy her voice sounds. "I'm fine. I don't look it though, do I?"

[thebelletolls]

Anna studies her for a moment, head tilted just a few degrees to one side. "Not really," she answers, her tone gentle as she searches Rachel's eyes.

Nothing.

The corner of Anna's mouth twitches slightly, half in relief, half in pity for whatever it is that's bothering her - or not bothering her, if she's as fine as she says she is.

"You look like you've been crying," the angel points out.

[rattle_thecages]

"I was," Rachel admits, because to deny it is pointless.

"But I do feel better." It's all quicksand now, ebbing and flowing, back and forth, but each time it returns it's a duller sensation.

Smiling at her reassuringly, she motions to the empty spot beside her. "Would you like to sit?"