o, foolish creatures

"If that was true, St. Francis would've burned down a looong time ago." August had to weakly laugh a bit. "I...honestly was sure I'd get the same treatment when I stumbled in for the firs time. But I didn't. And you won't either."

August offered Cori a large, warm hand. Contact could offer comfort, surely, if she was willing to take it. If not, he'd still lead her on.

Two heavy wooden doors opened into a plain church lobby: a little desk, the faint scent of incense, and doors open beyond to a modest chapel. August watched the figure in the back that was always present: a man carved of wood, the same wood that shaped a cross behind him, his hands and feet pinned to the arms and base of the cross with iron nails.

Symbols of faith have power. Some are like bedrock, abjuring what approaches. But the cross, to August, instead felt welcoming.

August made a sign of the cross on himself, and led Cori away from the chapel to the right. Through a much more normal door, they entered a hallway, all lined with doors that seemed to lead to conference rooms. Sounds started to grow as August approached one of the rooms. A little stand outside declared the meeting to be 'Friends of Giles'.

Well, of course somebody like August wasn't gonna catch fire walking through the door of a church. That little cult stint aside — where he'd been a victim anyway, not a perpetrator — he seemed like a nice Catholic boy. A nice guy, in general.

Corinna had a body count. Not even the fun kind. (Well, she had the fun kind too, and even though the church'd probably disapprove of both, the accessory-to-multiple-murders thing felt like the worse of the two.)

But if this place had seen enough potential sin-induced spontaneous combustion and was still standing like August said... well, that was interesting, at least.

She stared for a second, when August offered his hand. She'd offered him hers, that first night. Pulled him into danger, and here he was offering to pull her into... she didn't exactly know what, yet, but probably nothing anywhere near as bad. Tables, turned.

Can't believe he'd even want to touch me after that...

But she took his hand.

And hey, when they crossed the threshold, nobody burst into flame. Good start, she guessed.

August led Corinna through a side door in the lobby, skipping the actual chapel. Then down a hall, and through a door with a sign outside it reading 'Friends of Giles.' Corinna wondered who the hell — uh, heck — Giles was. One more mystery in a night full of them.

There was already a gaggle of people inside, including a big guy who came up and introduced himself as Father Donovan — which Corinna wouldn't have called, what with the Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. He shook August's hand (Auggie? Cute.) and welcomed Corinna in.

"Everyone pisses me off," he said finally, flatly, then moved on to her other questions quickly. "Being turned by a demon means my powers are more potent. Stronger. And I'm not chained to a sire, or their sire, or the sire above that sire. I have more...flexibility."

Ah. Right. Hell of a way to un-live, and it wasn't like any human health problems were about to kill Thomas a second time.

But Corinna kept her mouth shut and listened. So vampires-by-way-of-demons were tougher than vampires-by-way-of-other-vampires. Okay. She'd seen Thomas do... well, she didn't know what else to call it but magic. Maybe that was part of the something-extra the demon blood added. "I remember that — vampires, sires. Probably grandsires on up," she mused, nodding. "So, more power, and nobody really above you on the org chart."

"...fine," he muttered, before he sneered. "But stay where I can see you."

He held her gaze a second longer before he turned to the shelves upon shelves of items. There were so many. It took a moment to concentrate, to focus on that trail of magic.

He followed it, shelves after shelves, until he came across plastic boxes full of jewelry. His brow twitched downward. Actually touching the item itself might not be wise. Its magic could come from a curse.

So Thomas reached out a hand, and with a twitch of his fingers, the jewelry began to float into the air one by one. He began looking over the rings and bracelets and necklaces as quickly and thoroughly as he could.

Well, she couldn't exactly use her body to block anything from sight — too tall, too thin, not super able to give this magic-item-theft any cover or be a shield — but she could at least distract somebody, probably. Long enough for the vamp to take what he needed and book it.

Seemed like everybody up front was busy up front, thank God; minutes ticked by and the door stayed closed. Corinna chanced a look behind her, and found the "customer" examining a box of jewelry that still needed sorting through. He waved a hand, and a pendant just floated up out of the box, and hung in the air. Then a ring, then a brooch...

hey Farrar - you up?

@destroyed-ourselves

[text: Cori] not just me that’s up at this point