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Judgment's Call (a log)

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Judgment's Call (a log)

Post by Epiphany on Thu Dec 02, 2010 2:23 pm


Epiphany had been getting better, if by better it meant that she wasn't looking at everyone as if they were her next meal ticket. She had done the best she could to beat down the driving hunger to want to drink from them till it was more like a fond desire torturing her as it was just out of reach. She could still remember how it tasted and how it made her feel. Hardly anything else made her feel that way. She had also been taking the advice that Damon had given her months before: pray. How hard that task had seemed but, when she told Sister Mary-Marks - the Head Nun at the church - what she was trying to do, the Nun was more than happy to help. Thus on this Sunday night, like every Sunday for the past few months, Epiphany was closed away in what they called a 'prayer closet'. Fond memories Epiphany had here of when she was younger and made to kneel on her knees for hours at a time, even an entire day, as part of the training for the nunnery. The room was small, circular and made of stone. Dark aside from the window in the high ceiling and two wall scones that were on either side of the crucifix alter. There was only one door and one of the Father's was always there outside of it. Epiphany had entered this room at the beginning of the day and now, from what she could tell by the lessening of the light from the window, the day was coming to an end. She also heard the church bell ringing signaling the start of Evening Mass. The thought of all those people coming in made her stomach grumble a bit and she wrapped her arms around herself. Perhaps she was honestly hungry for real food. As it was she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten.

The dull thrum of a few people shuffling in through the main doors for the Evening Mass could be heard through the door of the prayer closet though the sound was muffled and distant as the door provided enough isolation to give the calm environment for prayer. Contrast to the dull sound of the people slowly coming in from the outside was the hard crash of something hitting the door from the outside. It was enough to shake the door but not to break it open. From the other side of the door was the muffled groan and deep sounding cough, a cough that belonged to someone particularly sick. Any light they may be shining from the bottom of the door jam would have been slightly cut off from a shadow befalling over the door. Still the coughing continued only broken by a labored breath.

The sick were people who frequented the church as they came for prayers of healing and others for care if they could not afford to go to the local clinic for some reason or another. So when the Father, who was outside of the door saw the ailing man he gave a frown, but it was one of compassion and care. "My Son," said the Father to the sick man, "enter in and receive your healing." how ironic was it then that the sick man fell in front of the door? The Father then knelt down, taking his hands from outside of his heavy brown robes to try and see what he could do for the fallen one. The patrons who were coming about, a few of them lingered while others continued on while crossing their chest and offering prayers for the man's healing. In it, a couple of the Sisters -the Nuns - came over, one of them with a cloth and the other with water so they could start to care for the sick. Epiphany heard the commotion outside of the room and turned, her eyes focusing on he covered space at the bottom of the door. "Yes.. cause that's really fair. I'm not going to do it." She turned back around to look at the alter. "I'm not going to." she had to be talking to it.. Or god.

The heavy travelers cloak that draped the frame of the man was dark brown in color, tattered and caked in dirt in many places. He smelled of the road, not of a vagabond but perhaps a traveler. The Father's offered hand caused the heavy hood that shadowed the man's face to rise slightly, a single gloved hand, fingertips bare while palm was covered accepting the hand. The man's strength was decent but from the shaking of the hand it was the strength found in desperation more then anything else. "P-please Father... I am here.... to speak with Sister Epiphany. I was told she was... " more coughing cut the man's words off from continuing as the fit re-doubled him over. Worse then the initial coughing fit that robbed the man of his balance, this time a small trail of blood pouring to the floor in front of the door to the closet from behind the hood. Groaning again the cloaked figure tried again to stand, the weakness in his hand that gripped the Father's increased with more shaking. "Forgive me Father... but I must speak to her. Is... is she one of you?" he finally wheezed out the last of his words towards the approaching nuns.

As the man was speaking one of the Sisters had taken the cloth and made it damp and was trying to dab it along the travelers face to clean him of the blood as she could. The Father - who looked to be on in years - had a surprisingly strong arm, but aside from the holiness that was about him there wasn't anything special When he and the two Sisters heard the travelers request they exchanged glances but it was the Father that spoke. "You are unwell my son. Let the sisters take you into care and get you cleaned. You should not see her in your present state." None of them glanced to the door of the Prayer Room. Epiphany.... if she heard him or not, that was to be seen. She knew that once she was in the room it was closed unless opened from the outside. Of course.. she could open it, if she wanted too.

The man's face though still shadowed was rather dirty from soot and the dust of the road, the short stubble that line his pale skin only added to the rough looking face that was barely visible from under the heavy hood. His lips and teeth were slightly red from having apparently coughed up some blood on the church floor. "Father..." he began to speak, the insistence in his tone gave him enough strength to speak clearly. "... I am beyond your help. I am in His hands now. My time is running out and I am afraid I must insist." again he began to cough again, though he was able to keep the footing he had gained while he was speaking. "I will go with you, but please... I must see Sister Epiphany in earnest." he finally explained before relinquishing his insistence to that of the holy Father.

"We can't let him see her," said one of the Sisters looking from the man and to the Father. She saw the look on the Father's face when he heard the man give what he thought was a last request of a dying man. "You know what type of state she is in!" She would have said more if the Father had not hushed her. "Quiet now." then he turned a smile to the man. "Of course. go with them and she will find you in time. " He pulled up on the man's arms to help him to his feet as he could. He would take him an leave the Sisters to get Epiphany.

"Thank you Father..." was all the man said, his gloved hand was all he offered from under the dark brown cloak that obscured the rest of the man's appearance. The man seemed unconcerned with the Sisters that left as they were obviously not who he was so desperate to see. His footsteps were slow but rhythmic in their heaviness in each movement of his boots across the floor. "Father... please tell me, has something happened with Sister Epiphany? She is someone of importance to me and I would be sorrow felt if she was ill." the man croaked in obvious discomfort as they walked.

"Epiphany, is in the midst of prayer," the Father responded to the traveler. It was the truth to an extent. She was in the prayer room and that is what she was suppose to be doing. Anymore of the state of the girl the Father did not feel the need to give away. "She will be with you when she can." He was directing the man to one of the sick rooms. It was down the hall and in another part of the church. Here, there were a few other Sisters walking around in their habits but they had veils over their mouths. The Father was leading him into an empty room that had a single cot.. There were a couple windows that let in the light, a sink and a dresser. Cloths and clean water. "Rest, my son, in the last bits of your time. Seek god and pray." He would leave him to the room and, unless the man wanted something more, he would head out the door.

The man said nothing more to the Father except a grateful nod as he slumped into the cot heavily. There he laid deathly still save for the labored breath that caused his chest to slowly rise and fall. From beneath the hood his stumbled chin and cracked lips from dryness were all that could be seen clearly. The man layed there in his apparent exhaustion, the seconds that passed seemed an eternity to someone who seemed to be on their death bad, and to all outward appearances, this was exactly what the man was experiencing as he waited.

The Sisters got Epiphany, though they didn't tell her much of anything she was only glad to be out of the Prayer Room, even though she only had a few hours left to go. She was told that the man was ill and while she believed it, she didn't think that was all there was to it. When she got to the room she pressed her hands down on the thick and long skirt she had to wear. Not being a full Sister, Epiphany was in the Habit of an apprentice: long skirt that covered her feet, and a shirt that button to under the chin with sleeves down to her wrist.. Her Hair was also pulled up in a bun. She didn't like it too much for she felt stuffy. She licked her lips and knocked upon the door before she turned the knob to open it. "I was requested...?"

The man's labored breath was the first thing to be heard in a way to answer Epiphany's request, his words were muffled by the cough, hacking cough as he tried to say "Yes." Having turned to his side while he laid upon the cot, the cloak only revealed the dirt caked boots of a traveler from the bottom of his cloak. The coppery smell of blood cut through the air immediately around the man as this latest fit provoked yet another apparent attack. It seemed his time was quickly running out.

The smell of blood was one of the main reasons why Epiphany was hanging by the door, even after she came into the room and shut the door. The smell of blood reminded her that she was hungry, but the thought of death worked against that hunger and took it away. She was still.... she was uneasy about death after her last involvement about it. How ironic then her current state was. She looked at him and looked away, remembering the little she could do to help all those others who have died. "Do you need comfort into passing over? I can bring you someone better.. than myself." she spoke quietly though sure that he could hear her.

"No... please, I came... I came to see you, Sister..." the man's voice wheezed weakly, enough of the blood had come forth to be seen on the edge of his dark brown hood now. The man moved as if desperate to try to sit up from the his side, a single gloved hand coming out from his cloak's edge to grip the side of the cot. It was apparent that he struggled in all that he did, his weakness becoming more prevalent with each passing moment. "I came... help... you are Sister Epiphany, yes?"

Her head was downward and her hands were at her side, curled into tight fist as she was steadying herself and trying to place her mind on other things. She was feeling ill. Why did he have to be dying? If he wasn't dying she would be a lot better at this . She couldn't... wait. Perhaps.. she could? But she shouldn't. She could help him. Epiphany took a deep breath and approached the man, trying to help him to sit up so he could be comfortable. "I am Epiphany. I'm not a Sister. I never took the vows." explaining simply to him. "You wanted to see me before you died?" It wasn't really surprising that someone came here to see her; she was often seen in the church - and around town even if not all views were good.

The man groaned as she helped him sit up in the cot, two soft thuds of his boots hitting the floor once he was upright. Still he leaned heavily against her at first, the spot of crimson that had marked his illness on his hood ran from its rest place dripping from the curl of the dark brown hood for a moment. Whispered and weak was his voice when he spoke; his head slumped down obscuring any direct view of his face. "I... I had to see... to see for myself. I wanted... to see... if it was true... Sister." he still seemed to insist on addressing her even after her correction, as his voice seemed to become listless in nature.

He wasn't doing anything but she was starting to feel nervous and wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was his presence or that he still called her Sister after she told him that she was not one. She didn't even know what he wanted to see as there wasn't anything special about her. "You shouldn't be sitting up." using a hand to pat him on the shoulder. "You should be laying down, it will ease the.. the pain in your chest." Epiphany looked over to the water on the dresser and the cloths. "I will get you something to drink.." She was holding herself in check as she could by picking a thing of focus and sticking with it. She had to keep her mind off of the blood.


The man's ever present wheezing had stopped as suddenly as a blink of an eye once Epiphany had turned away. The man voice which had been steady been growing weaker was not the same as it was when he spoke. "You should great restraint even before the weak and helpless, Sister." were the baritone words he spoke, steadily and strong. Both booted feet set upon the floor before the cot, perfectly clean of the dirt that had soiled it's leather surface, and the smell that marked the man as a traveler was as gone as the apparent outward weakness. The man was far from the visage he had portrayed to the Father and the nuns, even as he knew their intent was genuine in helping him, they were not the reason he had come here.

The Father and the Sisters were genuine in their treatment of the traveler - help those in need, that was one of their creeds. Epiphany had turned away and now, with what she was feeling from this man, she wasn't about to turn to face him yet. Her right fist was balled into a tighter fist until she could feel her short nails pushing into her palm, it was something to focus on because he wasn't ill and see needed another point. "I can have restraint when i need to." Or when she had to. There were times when she was very strained to have any control at all. "What do you want with me."

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Re: Judgment's Call (a log)

Post by Epiphany on Wed Dec 08, 2010 3:17 pm

The traveler as he was displayed none of the signs of a dying man as he did but moments earlier. The slight creek of the cot indicated his movement, likely standing from the slumped sitting position Epiphany had helped him into. "It is not what I want with you, that you should ask. It is why He gave Uriel the order to send me." he spoke. He voice was nothing short of a perfect example of the baritone expression of a masculine voice. He did not have animosity nor kindness in his voice, merely a steady calm to the rhythm in which each word seemed to flow from him. Even the scent of the dying that clung to his cloak was gone, as if simply stepping from one room to another.

The Nuns of the church would surely have a harsh word or two to say to Epiphany with the quick look of confusion that passed over her face. The man in the room gave a name that she did not know - so lax on her religious studies she was and even after all her years here she still couldn't speak any Latin with ease. But the other side knew what he was talking about and it was the reason why she continued to look down at the bowl and water. "Why were you sent then?" she asked, "Come to make sure that I haven't lured the children or made some desecration to the Church, for I assure you that the Nun's here keep watch over me enough."

The traveler's heavy cloak still hung from his frame, a frame that once he stood tall instead of the slumped posture of one close to passing, was broad in shoulder and chest. "Do not patronize me, Sister. You know perfectly well who I am and why I am here. You consort with one who deserves the mercy you could give him, to the point that you are in dire risk of corrupting yourself. I am here to make certain that does not happen." his voice was impossibly resolved in his conviction to what he spoke of, the very sound of his voice seemed to fill the entire room yet not from the raised volume of someone yelling. The subtle feeling of what he truly was could be more easily felt and seen, the light that filled the room was enough to abolish any shadow but not so much to be blinding.

Her eyes narrowed, yet still she wasn't looking at him. The fist she had balled up stayed that way now more out of anger than any need for her to keep herself in check and she had to clench her jaw tightly to keep the first string of words from coming out of her mouth. Deep breath Epiphany.. deep breath and then speak. She did this and her words we more calm than what she was feeling. "Don't patronize me. Coming in here to the church, masking yourself in lies and then talk about me being near corruption," Epiphany then turned around but she did not raise her head to face him. "I'm not the one in this room who's lying. For all I know you're an abomination masking yourself in the Light. Make your mission here clear or leave." Steady she was as she remembered the time that a Fallen had gotten into the church, they had their ways of pretending to be still of the Light and all this person could be is another test.

"I'm pleased you at least have the conviction to question my motives and means of entering the church. But you know as well as any the effects I would have on a mortal if they were to lay eyes on me plainly." with Epiphany finally turned to face him, his cloak parted enough for his left hand to come out to lower the heavy hood that masked his features. Hair of a near black in how dark his brown locks were, coupled with a perfectly trimmed goatee. His eyes blazed a soft azure hue when he looked to her, a sense of authority expressed within their depths. Upon the fair skinned forehead of his face was the mark of a cross spanning the width of his forehead and from hair line to the bridge of his nose. The mark was that of a Punishing Angel, as it was shared by no other of their kind. "If I was Fallen I would have the intent to encourage your actions even before determining your reasoning behind them. that is not my intent nor my purpose. In truth Sister I would hope as He would... to redeem you and your past actions, rather then the alternative."

He didn't have to come in as sick and dying and in desperate need of help, that was the point she was speaking on. Lying to get his way in when he could have merely came as a regular patron, she didn't see the reason for the death as anything more than him wanting to tease and expose that area of vulnerability for her. Epiphany didn't have to look at him to know what he was, she could feel it just as easy as she could feel the 'taint' in her blood trying to seep deep down into her system. Though she had her head down she was not being submissive, her stance was chosen for her own reasons and her fist remained clinched. The things that came to her mind to say were better left unsaid. "What's to happen then?" For he said what he wanted but nothing forward to what she was suppose to do. She was already doing all that she thought she should do - aside from taking he vampire completely out of her life... something she was told to do when she made her decision a few years ago. She had even wondered recently why she choose the Light instead of the dark. When that happened, she remembered why.

The angel's eyes remained steady upon the diminutive frame of the woman clad in her habit. His expression remained neutral, as he was not so easily provoked by her barely restrained manner. He crossed his arms over his barrel like chest, the heavy material of his cloak parted enough to reveal the dark colored lorica he wore, its perfect condition held the slightest gleam to the metallic studs and embroidery on it's surface. "Why have you disobeyed your sworn duty, Sister? Even to take the blood from his tainted veins into yourself! That is one of the many things I am here to find out." His presence from where he stood within an arm's length from her never wavered either closer or further from her when he spoke.

There wasn't an answer that she could give right away as she felt that she had to weigh her words. "Consider it a flaw of being human," is how she started off. Epiphany was partially human after all. "Or perhaps a display of how He can show mercy to those who have still not chosen to repent and turn from their ways." she could not say that no harm came to the people in her care or that the evil was always at bay for that wouldn't be the truth. She couldn't even say that she didn't kill the forsakers of the Light because they were not doing anything wrong as by definition their existence was wrong. "Anyone can be forgiven and change." that was all the answer she could think of that wouldn't condemn her one way or the other.

The angel nodded once to acknowledge her words as she spoke, the expression of contemplation passing over his apparently late twenty-something face. The light that emanated throughout the room remained but was dull enough to not bother someone's sight if not for other reasons to ensure their privacy. "So you say this creature who is damned to darkness showed mercy for the sake of mercy? Not for his own means or manipulative ways?" he began, even as the question was quite genuine and lacked the mocking quality some may expect of the question. "I have seen those who have been touched by darkness against their will, Sister. I know there are innocents in the war we fight. But why not grant them mercy of release from their corrupted form? If they truly are innocent their body will be the only part that is damned." he spoke with the conviction of experience, having seen the horrors that he guarded against, and the blackness that he met at sword tip.

"You misunderstand. We are talking about me here, are we not?" Only now did her head look like it was going to finally lift and she look him in the eye, but it didn't get that far. It was only a slight raise and a tip to the side, enough still that her eyes were hidden."You asked why have I disobeyed and done things. The words that I gave you apply to no one else but me as I don't speak for others....." trailing off slightly on that note, the fingers of her loose hand lightly patted against her thigh.

"I believe we misunderstand one another, Sister. You blame your human blood that is within you. I explain that perhaps then it was what this creature who has done, despite his nature to tempt your human side." he explained in retort. He looked to her sternly when he reached towards her, intending to tilt her chin up. Her eyes had remained hidden the entire conversation, and to look into them as she spoke would determine much of what he was there to do.
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Re: Judgment's Call (a log)

Post by Epiphany on Tue Dec 28, 2010 7:37 pm

"I don't blame anything," she spoke slowly. "I state fact or have you forgotten that humans are sinful creatures by nature?" Even though it was asked as a question it wasn't one that she meant for him to answer. Epiphany's head raised a bit more though she kept her eyes downcast. "Again… the topic of this conversation is me. Myself. Epiphany. Don't drag the faults and dealings of anyone else into it." s he spread her hands out the sides... "They are not here to speak up for themselves on what they may have done."

The angel said nothing at all nor did his expression change from her words. Instead the density to his aura seemed to compound many time over in the blink of an eye. The overwhelming feeling of what he was wasn't kept back in any subtle manner or way. Even the tone of his voice would seem to ring with a reverberating volume when he spoke though the sound of his commanding tone would never leave the confines of the room they both stood in. "Would you speak so patronizing to our Lord if he were here before you, Epiphany? I have my reasoning for asking what I do, and it is not your place to question it or tell me what to do. You are the one who risks falling from grace if you haven't already!"

Yes, that what she said in her head though it wasn't said out loud. Instead she was staying quiet, with her jaw clenched shut and hands held at her side as she took in steadying breathes. She felt the power from him and it felt the same as her own. Sadly, she didn't fully believe what he was saying because she felt that his attitude was more 'human' and he was getting upset. Maybe she was getting under his skin? How funny that thought was to her. It was that thought that brought her to finally lift her head up to look directly at him and, if he could see it, her eyes had changed in color. They were no longer the sky blue they usually were instead that color had faded out to be near white, the same as the rest of her eyes. "Then speak your words and speak them clear so my answers will be true…."

The angel had never known anger in the manner that was typically displayed in this situation; he had known the fury of battle when in the depths of Hell, safe guarding the balance against the fallen. But not the petty anger that mere words provoked. It was more the commanding presence that he had when his duty as a Punishing Angel seemed to arise. His expression had not changed in his face, in fact his lips did not even move when he spoke, yet his words were still heard and likely felt with the holy power that backed his words. "Why have you disobeyed our Lords will as one of his angels, by not smiting those who have chosen to turn from his mercy?"

"For the same reason that, in all his mercy, hundreds and thousands of young children die." Her words came out rather flat, "Innocent children." and maybe that was not what she should have said but it was out before she could take it back and even if she could she didn't know if she would. The children and their welfare held a special place in the heart of this girl and when it came to that… "Everyone deserves a chance. Change doesn't happen suddenly. I do my job the same much as you do yours. I protect those in my charge."

"That is for Him to decide and for their actions to decide. Not yours, especially if they repeatedly turn from Him." these words were ones he spoke... barely a whisper, and one spoken with the slightest sorrow in remembrance of the angel's own past deeds. The angel reached to the edge of his heavy set cloak, crossing his arms over his chest to lift it off his massive shoulders. Flipping it around himself he settled the now leather jacket back onto his shoulders. The aura was gone, as was the armor that served to protect the angel, replaced by common wears of a mortal biker, even the skull with a winged helmet on the back of his jacket to complete the look. "Your right. Everyone deserves a chance, sister. You are very much more human though, so be careful with the chances you choose and bestow." he advised rather nonchalantly.

"What does that mean?" As she was confused in what he said. That she was much more human…she didn't feel any different.. He had changed to a 'mortal' form so the power that had been in the room a moment before we gone - her eyes were still the same and her hands were clutched just as hard at her side as she was aiming to continue to keep herself in check, it was always something for her when she started to shift to keep the rest of it under control and not let it take over.

The angel knew the look in her eyes, and could feel the struggle within her, but only after centuries upon centuries of doing what he did best. Looking down to his jacket he reached within its confines to pull free a slightly tarnished set of gold rosary beads, complete with a tiny cross. Holding it up for her to take and easily see he explained calmly, "This is for you. Consider it a reminder... it you were to polish this regularly and keep it well maintained it would loose the tarnish and shine brighter then anything similar to it. But if you neglect it and keep it hidden then the tarnish will continue to dull it. But you have the choice. That’s what I mean. Its your choice what you choose to do. Care to what you, and this represents... or don't. Right now you’re in between, and you will not be right until you choose."

This was bad… and this was good.. It was both and maybe that it was both made it bad. She understood what he meant by the beads… somewhat. . Epiphany was still young and therefore some things went over her head… Though she still reached out to take them from him and cringed just a bit when they were in her hand. "And if I keep them constant..? " Never let it get any brighter, or any duller… "What difference would that make?" She didn't want to touch it... It reminded her of two many things. "What type of choice do I have to make that I don't already make every day.”

“Then that sickness and uncertainty you’re likely feeling, will remain and leave you vulnerable. Trust the words of someone with experience... you don't want that vulnerability when a true test makes itself present, and you fail at protecting those that matter the most." his voice was solid... but not with any of his holy presence like before, but like the warning of an elder to someone who was following in a path best not taken. He moved the last inch or two to lay the rosary beads in her hand, intending to press her thin fingers around it so that it would fully be hers. "Epiphany... sister... you have been blessed with a gift. Even those who have turned from Him can be helped, but not in the manner you are doing it right now. You are endangering yourself in the process, when there are ways to safe guard yourself. Your timing is running out to find that way though."

: "I don't like you …." That was the young side of her. She meant that in the way that she didn't like that even now it came to her making a decision for herself instead of someone making it for her. She always hated having to make her own decisions and that is why she made so few of them and gave things wide breath instead or found compromises. It wasn't an easy way out by any means but she learned, just as she was going to learn to deal with this new thing. She didn't see anyway to fully 'cure' herself unless she gave up someone…and that was not someone she was willing to let go. Not anymore. Epiphany held those beads tightly now in her hand. "The gift is a curse to keep us from love…. but I will always care for those in my charge..." that was more to her than to him.

The angel turned from her slowly towards the door, his have set boots were steady and strong in step; the thud of his slightly worn soles beat against the stone flooring clearly. "You'll like me less if I have to come back, sister. But what you haven't realized yet is we are the guardians of love... we keep it from those who would destroy it. God be with you, Epiphany." he stated clearly before he left the room, to the rest of the church, the steady sway of his shoulders, and the "Hell's Angels" written on the patch over the insignia on the back of the jacket, "Heaven" written along the bottom to show his chapter. The disguise was complete enough that he knew none would recognize him from the sickly traveler that first entered the church, merely a wayward soul that traversed the church halls daily.

.... le fin

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Re: Judgment's Call (a log)

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