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Harmony Sea
3f2378
WINNERS: Fine, fucker! You know this is might take awhile, right? I don't even know the details & Leave an offering
You sigh and rub your temples. He always does this shit. Max makes a decision like an earthquake and there's just no fucking stopping him, the gorgeous little fucking bastard-ass priest. "Fine!" you say at last. "You do know even I don't have the details here, yeah? We could be gone for ages."
"Do I get a say in this?" Heather asks, looking somewhere between confused and offended.
"You gonna fight a priest about it?" you ask her.
The new fish transitions solely to confused, then to horrified: "People draw iron on priests here?" she asks, in sheer disbelief.
"Gods Dark and Shimmering," Max breathes, in uncharacteristic blasphemy. "She really is a new fish."
"THEY DRAW IRON ON YOU HERE?" Heather repeats, aghast.
"Do they not Outside?" you prompt, gently, knowing damn well what the answer is. Heather makes a series of frustrated hand motions before she storms away rather than falling into your conversational trap. Smart move.
Max sighs and needlessly brushes off his penumbral vestments. He gives you a questioning look, and you nod after Heather. He takes the gesture for what it is, leaving you alone with what's left of his shrine. Max should - it's - you sigh, aloud. There's no time to pack this place up and ensure its sanctity. Like everything else in this forsaken hole, it will have to be left to rot.
You don't always get on with the gods but that's no way to treat a holy place, and you're going to be involved in that treatment. At the very least you can go and say hello, and maybe even pay some unironic respects.
Maybe.
You approach the altar and try to think of something to say. Ten thousand sarcastic remarks come to mind and you spend - well, awhile, squashing them down. How fucking long has it been since you prayed on purpose and not out of desperation? How -
- How long -
You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. You're not crying, like some new fish on their first day. You're not. You're not.
Eventually, with very little ceremony, you open your box of smokes and tip half of them onto the altar. It takes awhile to get them arranged neatly, which involves a lot of picking up the ones that roll off, but eventually it's something like presentable. You stare at them, trying to find words, and when you fail again you finally say something out loud.
"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I know you don't expect me to be better, but...I'm sorry I'm not. I'll try to be less of an ass."
Suck-ass prayer, but it's the one in your heart.
You're almost ready to turn away when the darkwood of the altar starts to churn. A shadow wraps around the smokes like a fog, and when it recedes a single black cigarette is left. You blink and stare at it, not sure what to make of this gesture, when it helpfully hucks itself into your still-open box; a tendril of shadow closes the box behind it.
Hhhhhhhhhuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
You need to rejoin the others.
> Grill Max for more information. The skeletons were a surprise to him, sure, but the void-priests know Tenebrous like no one else can
> Ask Heather about this mission of hers
> March in grim silence like civilized people (advance back to Junction)
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