This, one knows, is not one's home. (OTA)

[foulnfair]

When night had come and quiet seemed to descend of a different kind than Macbeth had known, he crawled to the bed and slept as if dying. Or perhaps he was already dead, then awoke still in this strange place. Hauvratat. The water in the washroom was clean, and clear; he drank eagerly then washed himself, clothes cast aside and rank. New clothing

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[cultless]

Martha was heading to work at the Black Sheep just then. She was about to enter the pub when she saw a man nearby, looking more than a little lost.

"Hey," she said, going towards him. Work could wait for the time being. "You look confused." She tried to smile, to seem friendly. "I mean...yeah. Can I help you with anything?"

[cultless]

"No! I haven't! That was other people, not me!" She was alarmed now, concerned that somehow, this man knew about the cult.

[foulnfair]

"Lie! You lie! The stench of it - !" He lunged forward again, "the stench - " he spit the words at her. "Do you not see?"

His face contorted, he held her wrist as if holding on for dear life. "...that all is lost?"

[cultless]

She tried to get away, but couldn't--his grip was too strong.

"Not all is lost," she said weakly.

[foulnfair]

Down he went, to his knees, her hand pulled to his cheek.

All was lost. He sobbed hoarsely.

[cultless]

"Don't--don't cry," she said, trying to seem comforting. It probably wasn't working, she thought.

[foulnfair]

Her hand was smooth against his cheek and Macbeth rubbed his face against it. "Would you unman me?" he asked, voice choked.

[cultless]

Martha shuddered a little.

"Um...I would not?" she said, hating herself for sounding so damn unsure.

[foulnfair]

"Were I but worthy of half the man you thought I was .... "

Perhaps then some of the horror might have passed them by.

[cultless]

She looked at him, seeming a little frustrated--and still startled, really.

"I...I hope you're all right," she said, trying to seem...consolatory? Comforting? Martha wasn't sure.

He unnerved her, but she didn't exactly want to leave him alone.

[foulnfair]

Rocking back on his heels to look up at her, face tear-stained, anguished. "I could not save anyone." Not anyone. Least of all himself.

[cultless]

That struck a chord in Martha, somehow. It reminded her of the others in the cult, how lost and blind to reason they were.

"Yeah," she said, looking down at him. "I guess I couldn't either. But sometimes you--well, you can try to save yourself."

That was what she was trying to do. Save herself. And here she was, with an apparently crazy man, trying to calm him down.

Life was weird.

[foulnfair]

"How?!" The word came out a near howl, agonized. Were it that he only knew how.

[cultless]

"I don't know, but we have to try, right?" She was still nervous about him, and her voice was shaking.

[foulnfair]

"Are you one who would seek it with me?" he asked, face creased with despair.

[cultless]

"...Um, would you want me to?" she asked, concerned.