On innocence

[Molly Mayweather]

It had been a few days since the last fight with the Falcones, and Molly was sitting at a table by herself. It was out of character for her--until recently she could be seen laughing along with one or two people at mealtimes. She pushed her potatoes around her plate. Dark circles had formed and recessed some, and she didn't look quite as ill as she did a few days ago. Her beloved wrench was no where to be seen. She cast a forlorn glance at the paper and pencil on the table. The paper had a few words scrawled across the top: "Dear Mum & Dad..."

[Wolfman2006]

The brown robed priest walks by, and pauses briefly as if noticing something. He gives a furtive glance to Molly, as if surprised. After a brief moment he finally realizes that nothing has changed but for the absence of her traditional smile and endless chatter, he walks back seats himself across from Molly. His face bears a tight discontent frown upon it.

"Miss Mayweather, you have been uncharacteristically quiet. And while it has been some time since I have performed such duties, might I offer my services as a man of the cloth; should you seek a Confession or perhaps spiritual or moral guidance and counsel?"

[Project 424]

424 walks into the establishment carrying her knitting basket. She walks quietly over towards Mechanic Molly and Father Sahal. With a gentle smile, she greets both of them and sits a polite distance away. Close enough to be part of the conversation, if they so wish to include her and far enough that she is not imposing, if they do not.

She begins to work on her black shawl. The wood of her needles clicking lightly together.

[Molly Mayweather]

Molly barely looked up from her plate as Sahaal sat and regarded him with an almost blank expression--she couldn't decide whether he was the first person she wanted to see or the third to last. While she was thinking about it, she tried a half-smile for 424 as she walked by, then sighed and pushed her plate aside. She didn't dare meet his eyes, so instead she stared hard into the table, looking like she might be profoundly sick as she said very quietly, "I killed somebody, Father. I didn't want to so they shouted at me til I did, and then they all laughed at me for it."

[Ethan Talbot]

*Grumbling to himself as he enters the tavern Pastor Talbot is without his vest and white shirt on. Wearing a different shirt, he holds both up to the light with a hole roughly drill sized through them.* "That is just mightly neighborly of those bastards..."

*He looks up to see the fellow locals in the tavern and tips his hat, now riddled with bullet holes from a combinationf of Falconi and Squad 2 effort.*

"Evening all!"

[Wolfman2006]

Other than a brief stiffen at his voice, Father Sahaal ignores the Pastor's entrance completely, and gives his undivided attention to the distressed young woman in front of him. Looking solemn the priest's face can not hide a hint of emotion. Pity? Sorrow? Regret? His voice softens somewhat, but retaining it's direct force.

"To take a life can be a terrible thing Miss Mayweather. All of Humanity shares our divine blood and heritage, to kill a fellow man is to put out a touch of the Almighty's light. Even the most cruel and evil of men, Heretics, Murderers and the like, even they carry such holy flame inside. To be responsible for the death of your fellow man, that is a terrible crime."

Pausing briefly he looks at the young woman in front of him over appraisingly. His expression too softens somewhat, but he continues speaking before any response can be given.

"I have taken the lives of men, Miss Mayweather. It is a heavy burden that is borne not of choice, but of necessity. However, penance is a constant in my life. Sometimes in order to do good in Phenex's name, to do what is right, we must sin in the process. The importance is that one recognizes such Sin for what it is. The day one looses sight of it, is when you have truly lost the Almighty's Graces. Miss Mayweather, if you truly feel remorseful for your actions, if you wish for redemption in the eyes of the Almighty. It would be my duty as a priest of his Holy Church of Phenex to see to your cleansing of Sin, should that be your wish."

Expression darkening again, his eyes twinkle dangerously as he speaks once more.

"That said Miss Mayweather I must ask you this. Who was it that shouted at you? Who was it that laughed at your righteous pain, causing you such distress and turmoil?"

[Raven]

*the pale woman skips in bursting threw the tavern screen door and absentmindedly looking around, her sword and buckler brandished loosely if almost carelessly in her hands she gives Molly and Sahaal a sideways glance before closely examining Pastor Talbot’s holy shirt, she gives him a wide toothy smile and waves at him threw the large drill shaped hole and bounds over to Project 424’s table where she crouches down and rests her chin upon it watching wide-eyed as the silver automata knits*

[Project 424]

Project 424 smiles politely at Pastor Talbot. "Good evening, Pastor."

Her eyes move to Mechanic Molly and Father Sahaal for a moment, listening quietly for as long as is polite.

A silver smile greets Raven and the automata begins to hum a tune as she knits. The tune is reminiscent of a lullaby, calming and accepting.

[Gregor]

*From the corner an unsightly individual with dirty, unkempt hair moves towards Father Sahaal and Molly Mayweather. He has a serious look on his face and interjects into the conversation with no hint of finesse or whiff of concern for the clearly depressed young woman in front of him*

"The important question is did you search the thing you killed?" Gregor blurts out in a monotone voice.

"It could have had gold or something important that I could give to Father Sahaal. As long as its loot is valuable you did the right thing."

*Gregor then sits next to Father Sahaal and even though you can not tell by studying the rotting flesh on his face, Gregor feels a sense of accomplishment in giving advice to Ms. Mayweather*

[Molly Mayweather]

Molly's expression was both sad and hungry at Sahaal's words, but before she could answer, Gregor had pretty much ruined everything. The thought of looting the young blond woman with the cracked skull upset her so much, she gagged, flushed with embarrassment, and fought back tears in the span of a second. Mollies don't cry. "No, Gregor," she snapped, "the thing wasn't a thing, she was a person. And I don't steal things from dead people!"