Vingt † so as i pray

[expiatrice]

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[lunawolves10th]

[ The full-throated growl of an immense engine can be heard preceding Garviel's arrival at the church, as he shows up riding a massive motorcycle, built so large and robust that the white-plated vehicle looks more like a small car. He stops it just short of the church, and removes his helm, looking up at Ciel. Was he checking in on her? Perhaps... but another part of him is here remembering someone lost as well. Someone Ciel also helped protect. ]

Ciel [ He says her name quite gently this evening, despite his thunderous approach, he seems inclined towards a quieter conversation in person. ]

[expiatrice]

[Kind of hard to miss with the revving of the engine. Nice ride, though she wasn't as big into vehicles as she was into guns.

So she'll simply blink and look down in mild surprise.]

Good evening, Garviel. [Pushing herself back up and hopping down easily, landing with a soft "thud".] May I help you?

[lunawolves10th]

[ He looks down at her, and nods, gravely. ]

Good evening. [ He looks over the church, and his fist briefly clenches. ] I came here to remember Aurica. I know that you knew her too. I would speak about her with you. It would be... a comfort.

[expiatrice]

[...

Yes, of course. The Reyvateil she herself helped and consoled on many turns in the last few months. The girl has been recently droned too, before Ciel could get to know her better.

Such were things as they are.

She gives a small but solemn nod.]

...Mm, certainly. Would you like to head inside?

[lunawolves10th]

[ Garviel nods his head, and will move inside, hunching to get into the door. He is quiet for a while, looking at the pews where he first met Aurica. In the very place he had actually been looking for Ciel. ]

She was a good person, you know. But made for a purpose. [ He touches his breastplate. ] I felt a certain kinship for her, in that regard.

[ He trails off. Uncertain how to continue. Uncertain of how to mourn a mortal, instead of a battle brother. ]

[expiatrice]

[She'll look back at him.] Oh? Would you say that some are born, created, entered the world without a purpose, Garviel? [Not the best time to discuss ideologies, and goodness knows it might just wind up in another dead end with a man as convinced as he was, but it's a shot to distract him, she supposed.

But geez, droning isn't like dying. Some are truly dead at home, but still...]

[lunawolves10th]

Absolutely. Many of us are blank slates. We all have choices, even those of us who were made with a purpose. I had a choice between loyalty to my warmaster, and loyalty to the truth, and the Emperor.

[ Garviel looks down at his armor, all marks of allegiance gone. His choice reflected by his self-defacing of the Eye of Horus. ]

But many people have no inherent purpose, beyond what they may choose. [ He pauses a moment, and smiles a little, obviously remembering something happier. ] Or what their parents choose for them. [ The smile fades swiftly. ] Fathers and sons... how easy it is for them to misunderstand one another.

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Do you speak of an inherent purpose then, when you talk about miss Aurica? [Nnnot touching family affairs. She for one would have been perfectly happy, to fulfill the purpose that her father should've - could've, left her.]

[lunawolves10th]

Indeed. She had one from the moment of her creation, much as I did.

[ His creation as a space marine, anyway. ] Though she was born, as a Reyvateil, she was made for war.

[ He looks over to the altar for a moment, his body shift exposing an empty scabbard at his hip, where his chainsword normally is located. His other blade is still visible, the meter-long spatha sheathed on the opposite side of his body. ]

I cannot imagine her at war, though.

[expiatrice]

...

I wasn't aware. [Her reply is quiet. A girl as kind and gentle as Aurica? ...There really was no justice, was there...] Me neither. Not only would she be ill-suited, her very nature would contradict a notion as bloody and violent as war. ...Has she told you personally, or have you deducted as much from what she's described of her homeland?

[lunawolves10th]

Both, actually. She was too kind for her world. Too kind for this place, in particular. She wanted to bring mercy even to the lost. [ He will look to Ciel, meeting her eyes briefly. ]

But the only kind of mercy that was to be found was of the sort you and I administer.

I am... sad to say I am not surprised she became a drone, in some ways. This town is harsh indeed to the innocent and the kind. It will rip at them emotionally until they are husks... and then their minds are easy prey, I suppose.

[expiatrice]

[Her gaze is as it always is when she's in habits; sober and quiet, in contrast to cheerful and laid-back if one were to run into her during the day.]

...hm.

It's better this way. Those unprepared to steel their minds will only continue to get hurt the more time they spend here. Shattering of ideals and psychological wounds are things that no technology or magic can heal.

[lunawolves10th]

I must disagree. She's just a slave to the town now. I can still see her face... only it's blank! She's lost to us, and lost to herself.

We can heal them. We can protect them. We've both demonstrated the ability, Ciel.

[expiatrice]

You don't know that. Mayfield smears truth and misleads with red herrings. I know you were here for April Fool's. You're free to draw your own conclusions, but until I'm presented with irrefutable proof that the souls of the people stay trapped here even after their droning, this is not something that I will believe in. [Her tone is still soft, but there's a harsh edge in her eyes when she calmly looks back.]

...

On a physical level. To attempt to so much as understand a mental wound, a past trauma, so to speak of, you must have an inherent grasp of what drives another to feel the way they do and emphasize with their situation. Without exaggerating, without being swayed by your own personal experiences and emotions. [Her eyes slightly narrow.] Please don't overstate things, Garviel. ...Or rather, speak as you will of yourself if you so wishes to, but do not speak for me with such conviction. I am aware of my limits, and I don't intend on exaggerating them.

[lunawolves10th]

[ Garviel is silent for a long time after she upbraids him. He looks back at the Altar for a moment, remembering another altar, in another church. ]

I desire truth more than anything else. I don't even know where to start, in this town. But I just feel... strongly, that this town holds those who are no longer self-aware in some kind of bondage. Even if all of what happened in April was a lie, the subtlest lie of all is the one that contains truth in it.

[ His face darkens. ]

I have faced some particularly skilled liars, in my time.

[expiatrice]

If we're given an answer, then there would no longer be any need to question. Given the nature of this town, you should already know that it's very hard to obtain anything concrete. But believing the worst - or one of the worst - alternatives that Mayfield itself has showcased us, isn't that like giving up before you even tried looking? Accepting that there is a generator in the Dairy that siphons people' souls for power is giving in to both despair and acknowledging your powerlessness. If you truly are going to tell me that this - or something like that is what you think happens to those who are permanently droned, then I will have to say that frankly, you are much weaker than you initially seemed. [She's relentless in her scolding, but with arms crossed and frowning openly, she actually looks more like a pouting girl that one may have some trouble taking in completely seriously.

It's her own underhanded and "unorthodox" ways to inspire hope and morale, admittedly. Whether it'll have the intended effect...]