faithfulflame | Fifth Prayer: Loss

[She'd just checked Usagi's room, and it was empty. Nothing remained of Sailor Moon save for a half-empty bucket of pudding just sitting in the fridge. With a cry of frustration, the normally reserved miko took it out and hurled it at the trash bin, chocolate oozing down the wall. This was just too much. First Ami, then that awful Apep creature taking Sabriel, and now Usagi!

Her friends would need to be told, of course. So, a few minutes later a Voice transmission pops out over the journals. Rei's voice is tight and controlled, but there's definitely an undercurrent of sadness]

I'm sorry to inform everyone that Tsukino Usagi-san has been sent home by the Malnosso.

Please think of her fondly, and wish her luck.

Should anyone wish to make a formal prayer for her, I will be available to help with that, so please contact me via the journal.

[Closing the feed, Rei picks up her journal and heads out to the little tent shrine she, Ami, and Usagi had put together months before, lighting a flame on the brazier with Eferin and preparing several prayer strips of her own for her friend and Sailor Moon. She burns them, and sends her wishes to the other girl, whereever she might be]

Be well, Usagi-chan.

(OOC: Feel free to respond via voice, or find Rei at her little hideaway)

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[Normally he'd lie. Tease. Twist words around to suit him- but this was a holy place, and she a holy woman. So he is honest.]

It has been some time since I last made peace with the Maker, yes.

[He comes closer to the little shrine, head bowed.]

Zevran Arainai.

The Maker?

[You lost her, Elf. But she sees that you are, in fact, an elf. With a flourish she writes his name and tosses the paper into the fire, clapping twice and bowing before kneeling in prayer.]

The creator, at least as far as Chantry and their followers are concerned.

[That is all he says before bowing his head along with her, waiting for the prayer to finish.]

[When she finishes, she turns around. Her face is fairly stern and somber. Focused, even. You've got her attention Zevran. And given her something to think about.]

I'm afraid that I do not know the term Chantry. I can assume it is a religious organization in your world, sir. Would you be willing to share?

[Obviously, she wants a distraction]

I would, of course. But first and more importantly an offering, yes? It is customary where I am from, especially since you have been so kind as to offer a prayer for me.

[Zev manages to sweep into a bow- it's not at all made awkward by the cups in his hands or the umbrella tucked on his shoulder. Nor is it the fanciful sort of bow he reserves for teasing or courtly gestures. It's short, simple, and respectful.]

Perhaps a heated concoction of milk and chocolate to warm you on this dreary afternoon? [For once, not a hint of innuendo. He's on his best behavior.]

[This man is...incredibly strange. But she recognizes that he is trying, at least, to be polite. And that is something she's grateful for. At the mention of the drink, she blinks]

Hot chocolate?

It is a sad echo of what true drinking chocolate ought to be- but pleasant none the less. I've the lighter, sweeter sort and the darker sort that is supposedly more rich. [He sets the tray down and plucks up both of the cups, nodding at each as he describes them before offering both to the Sister.]

[Rei takes the lighter drink and takes a sip]

I understand your frustration. At home, we have drinking chocolate. But this is not bad. Thank you for sharing with me, Zevran-san.

Thank you for the prayer, Suora bella. May the Maker or whichever god or spirit that holds sway in this place listen well to your words.

[For himself, Zev selects the 'French Vanilla Latte' that had been recommended to him a few days ago. Light. Creamy. Not overly bitter. It's quite good, actually.]

I hope so too.

[Another sip]

Can you tell me more of your faith, Zevran-san?

What is it that you wish to know? How the Chantry tells the tales of our revered Andraste- the story of creation and the Maker? I know a little of all of it, and would be happy to tell you anything.

Tell me of Andraste first.

[She takes a seat, gesturing for him to do the same, while taking a sip]

[Zev folds up his umbrella and sets his tray of coffee drinks aside, settling across from the Sister.]

Andraste was a prophet, the wife of the Maker. A woman of great purity, wisdom, and if the Chantry is to be believed, beauty.

[Zevran takes a sip of the vanilla flavored beverage and smiles to himself, sitting back and explaining what he knows of Andraste to the best of his ability. It is paraphrased here and there, spoken simply, honestly, and sincerely.]

Fifth Prayer: Loss

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