#a.event03

"It's impressive how you've managed to sleep through all of this." He's surprised, all things considered, that Joei seems largely unbothered by what's happened, their daughter fast asleep, tucked into the crook of their arm. There's a cacaphony of chatter filling the police station, fear, uncertainty- hushed discussion of what they'd seen in the clouds high over head. A lesser man would have been fearful, they suppose. The Absinthe from mere hours prior would have been horrified- Not them. There is an eerie calm about all of this. This town, these people, they are not selected by random chance- they see that now. Something divine is testing them. He'd passed with flying colors the first time- he wouldn't falter here, not now, not now that the grand puppeteer had deigned fit to show itself.

They're torn from their silent thoughts- a crag of lightning illuminating another person stood in front of them. "Mm." They blink, glancing up slightly. "Ah. hello... You're... Rini, yes? Do you need something?" He speaks quietly, a finger pressed gently to lips to indicate the younger do the same for the sake of Joei. "I've had a number of visitors already- If you seek prayer or some other comfort I'm willing to lead- or if you simply need a listening ear, I've got two available."

@backmaskcd

"Afternoon, Quinn." The greeting is pleasant enough, as they spark up a cigarette and lean absently against the outside wall of the library for a moment's rest- and some people watching. "I hope you've been having a pleasant enough time?" They're familiar, of course- living in the commune together doesn't exactly make people capable of avoiding one another, and despite the nagging feeling in the back of Sin's skull- the bred-in sense for danger and that which would bring ruin taught by old men in robes to a version of themselves that Absinthe could no longer remember the name of. He'd been the one to receive the tattoos they had now. Absinthe had been the one who chose to display them, today. the blackout paintjob had only done more to obscure where pale skin stopped and ink began, hands black as they smoke, bones and chainlink clinking as they straighten up- offer a warm smile at Quinn beside them. "I'll be honest I didn't expect this sort of thing to hold any of your interest- you don't seem much like the... flight of fancy, type." at least, not flights of fancy that aren't steeped in blood and doomsday declarations. "It's refreshing to have a few days off from the habit."

@ambercast

To their credit, they knew no matter what, their outfit was going to cause a stir. Absinthe was well aware they'd played it safe enough with their presentation- masculine to a fault and leaning more heavily into the pronouns associated with it- it was odd, of course, the idea of being a father and a Father without being a man- but it had been comfortable. But nothing, really, was comfortable anymore- not with their memories threatening under the surface, not with his constant concern that something was about to break the weak boughs levying his psyche and ties to religion. So he'd chosen 'new' instead of comfortable on the days he wasn't watching Joei. And he'd quickly realized that 'new' meant he was due for a slot in the gossip rag, if some of the expressions on the older members of the church's congregation were any indicator. It's not an old church lady they end up catching up to at one of the booths, however, a slight smile on angular features as they greet Matt, instead. "Hello Matth- ahem, Matt. Sorry. I'm working on the propriety thing, I promise. How've you been? I hear you've moved in with Hawth- Hawk- I can't imagine what having that much space all of a sudden after living in the commune for a while must feel like, I'd be redecorating immediately."

@wanderinglcst