RP The Rockrose and the Thistle

[Containment]

[div][attr="style","position:absolute;"]
[div][attr="style","position:relative;left:-181px;top:11px;width:150px;text-align:center;border-radius:15px;background-color:#B70316;background-size:cover;background-repeat:no-repeat;color:ghostwhite;padding:5px;font-family:high tower text;"]The High Priestess

[img style="width:150px;border-radius:15px;" src="[URL]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/426247770299432962/1131433102649069578/My_project.png[/URL]"]

Credit to Illirica for this code[/div][/div][div style="margin-top:11px;padding-top:90px;padding-bottom:90px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:10px;background-image:url([URL]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/426247770299432962/1131432368188694589/seamless-pattern-with-red-rose-flowers-outline-on-the-black-background-floral-hand-drawn-ornament-in-sketch-style-free-vector.jpg);background-attachment:fixed;padding-top:4px;padding-bottom:4px;padding-left:4px;padding-right:4px;[/URL]"][div style="border:5px groove #FF033E;font-family:high tower text;padding:10px;color:ghostwhite;background-color:rgba(0,0,0,0.6);"][div align="center"][font color="#800080" size="7"]CHURCH OF THE MOTHER[/font][/div]

[font size="3"]There was a soft sound in the empty church. A Song, sacred as Songs always were, sung softly as it should be since Her Children were sleeping. The swish of bristle on floor echoed throughout the chapel like the rustle of leaves – even alongside it, as that gentle ever-present breeze brushed against the Mother’s tree, now much more than a sapling, much like the Mother herself.

And like her priestess. She was not the only girl who had grown into a young woman here in the past few years, but she was the one who grew roots and remained. A recently new sweatshirt swayed loose about her shoulders over black tee and jeans, as apple-red as the last two she’d outgrown. Likewise her short black hair was dyed red at the tips, and her nails were painted the same.

[font color="rosybrown"]“Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust, the devil’s after both of us, ooh, lay my curses all to rest, make a mercy out of me…”[/font]

There was an earbud in her left ear, feeding the song to her. It escaped in turn, more softly between her lips, time kept with each sweep of the broom. She was illuminated through stained glass by the city beyond and should have cast a long, strange shadow throughout the church – but that might frighten a stranger, or a child. One of the windows might have been frightening enough, all black glass with interspersed circles that might be [font color="lightgreen"]Her[/font] [font color="lightsteelblue"]Eyes[/font] – The Watcher. And yet even rendered into glass there was kindness within the multiplicitous gaze, a promise of safety to those within and a warning only to those that would harm the Sanctuary.

There were very few places in this part of town where a young woman could feel safe, alone and distracted as she was, sweeping the floors in the dark as children slept underfoot. Someone had to be here to keep an eye on them when the Mother was away, after all. Someone had to take that responsibility, and it really wasn’t so much to be asked, either. Food, shelter, mediation. Safety. All under the kind eyes of a Goddess who loved them, through the soft voice of her High Priestess. Some children would go, of course, as children were wont to do, and She let Her Children do as they wanted with regards to Her. But She always Watched, and She would Know if harm came to them. That knowledge was enough to keep the bloodsuckers at bay, as well as the worst of humanity.

It took a Child to know a Child’s fear, Curiosity to understand their drives. But Curiosity was not a Child anymore, and She needed one who could Know Her fears, Her drives, a Spirit akin to Her own. Grown together in tangled roots. A Rose by any other Self would not be so suited.

The song shifted and another shuffled in. She smiled with a sigh as the music took a sadder turn. Her lips moved with this one, too, as she resumed her route.

[font color="rosybrown"]“Why so sad? He said, and his eyes say, Don’t you know that it’s not all about you, anyway? Come and play love, come and play…”[/font][/font][/div][/div]

 

[Fill]

[div style="margin:0 auto;max-width:100%;background-color:#000000;color:#ffffff;padding:1%;overflow:hidden;font-size:10pt;"][div style="border:2px solid #ffffff;padding:1%;"][div style="border:2px solid #ffffff;padding:2%;"][div align="left" style="overflow:hidden;font-family:'Courier New';"]Today had beat his ass, but this . . . this was worth it. He heard a number of heartbeats. Above those cacophonous sound uniting in unison, one heartbeat and a song rang true above the rest. A smile grew under his mask. Woody knew that voice. After setting the duffel bag aside, the smile became a grin as his feet left the floor of the church and his limbs clung to the ceiling of the hallways before entering the church proper.

All the while keeping out of eyesight of his target. He cozied himself up above one of the stained glass windows as he sat up and leaned forward against the wall, listening and watching intently.

While sporting black-and-white colored civilian clothes, the vigilante kept his mask on as well as his gloves but everything else about his armored spandex-esque costume had simply rippled away. A brief vibration across his costume had transformed his clothing to something more normal before he even got within five blocks of the building. A normal procedure to land somewhere far from the church before changing to something reasonably inconspicuous and then reach the church on foot.

Now he was wearing a black shirt with white seams and an equally dark if not darker black jacket. The pants were slightly loose-fitting jeans sporting the same color, although far more flexible and comfortable than the average pair, and a pair of black shoes with white bottoms and white laces.

No use bringing any unnecessary attention to the abode with his particular brand of famous reputation and infamy.

Now he was here. Part of his usual daily routine or he tried to make it daily. He rubbed his knee, aching with the exertion of his perch before rubbing a shoulder and rolling it. Every nick, wound, and bruise flared along his joints and torso. Today had been rough.

But taking the backdoor and having a chance to hear this? This made it all a little more bearable.

Until her singing ended or when her song and lyrics matched became that of a different, Woody waited a little before moving along the ceiling, crawling carefully.

"Nice singing. Ever thought of going pro?"

Behind her and hanging on a single strand upside down, Sensation's lenses would meet Rose's own eyes if she turned around, just a few feet in behind her--or, well, in front of her--before he gave a small salute with two fingers off the top of his forehead.

"Or are you going to start a choir I don't know about? I can be the bass."[/div][/div][/div][/div]

 

[Containment]

[div][attr="style","position:absolute;"]
[div][attr="style","position:relative;left:-181px;top:11px;width:150px;text-align:center;border-radius:15px;background-color:#B70316;background-size:cover;background-repeat:no-repeat;color:ghostwhite;padding:5px;font-family:high tower text;"]The High Priestess

[img style="width:150px;border-radius:15px;" src="[URL]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/426247770299432962/1131433102649069578/My_project.png[/URL]"]

Credit to Illirica for this code[/div][/div][div style="margin-top:11px;padding-top:90px;padding-bottom:90px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:10px;background-image:url([URL]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/426247770299432962/1131432368188694589/seamless-pattern-with-red-rose-flowers-outline-on-the-black-background-floral-hand-drawn-ornament-in-sketch-style-free-vector.jpg);background-attachment:fixed;padding-top:4px;padding-bottom:4px;padding-left:4px;padding-right:4px;[/URL]"][div style="border:5px groove #FF033E;font-family:high tower text;padding:10px;color:ghostwhite;background-color:rgba(0,0,0,0.6);"][font size="3"]If he was planning to scare her, he should know better. Nothing got into the church without the Mother’s Knowledge, and because of that the Priestess had nothing to fear while she was within. She had true faith in Her Who guided her. And so her turn from hymn to him was smooth and graceful, still illuminated by the orange glow of the Shepherd window, where Goddess stood silver with crook in hand and Hound at heel.

[font color="rosybrown"]“Any singers are a choir, to Her,”[/font] she said, in her best cryptic impression, which had been much easier when she was fourteen. Now at eighteen, her face melted, and she laughed as she pulled the earbud free and stuffed it into a pocket, and set the broom aside to step toward him. [font color="rosybrown"]“Besides, you know I’ve got my hands full enough without taking up a hobby.”[/font]

She didn’t even ask if he was injured. She just always assumed as such, and put her hands on either side of his upside-down mask.

[div style="text-shadow:0px 0px 5px #BC8F8F;"][font color="lightpink"]“Ehye.”[/font]
[div style="color:rgba(255, 82, 160, 0.61);margin-top:-20px;"]“Heal.”[/div][/div]
The smell of fresh apples and a warm red glow filled the area around them. A breeze rustled through the branches of Her Tree, and life flooded from the gentle palms to the idiot in the mask. Reckless and self-sacrificial. But he was a good idiot. Meaning well was halfway to doing good, and he’d done just as much good for these kids as Rose and the Mother. This was the least they could do in payment.

She let go of his face before it could be considered untoward, and then picked her broom back up, but there was a gentle furrow to her brow as she picked up where she had left off. [font color="rosybrown"]“Who was it this time? Bloodsuckers? Bank robbers? Misguided vigilante?”[/font]
[/font][/div][/div]

 

[Fill]

[div style="margin:0 auto;max-width:100%;background-color:#000000;color:#ffffff;padding:1%;overflow:hidden;font-size:10pt;"][div style="border:2px solid #ffffff;padding:1%;"][div style="border:2px solid #ffffff;padding:2%;"][div align="left" style="overflow:hidden;font-family:'Courier New';"]The orange light certainly did her complexion all the favors as she turned to him. Honestly, he had to wonder in a place such as Duskburg how this church's interior glowed with such ethereal light through its stained glass. A raised eyebrow under the mask followed, only matched by his lenses, as her cryptic manners greeted him.

Before settling into his own chuckle as she began laughing. For a moment, he wondered if she had been messing with him or he had inspired some form of divine retribution.

"A hobby would be good for you, and-."

Her hands caught him off guard as they lightly pressed against both sides of his mask, and the suit nearly rippled in agitation and anticipating as a response before stopping. Rose was a trusted friend, and she had never harmed or betrayed their trust before. This was simply sudden. The scent of fresh apples and a forest breeze graced his senses before he released one hand from his web-line to cast a glance at his own appendage. Glowing. He was glowing.

No, the entire room was. It was only a moment before it vanished. All the while, he could feel every wound begin to close up and seal rapidly, far faster than he had ever healed on his own, even with the suit's help. Every bruise and inflamed joint began to vanish away with a comforting heat that rushed over his body rapidly.

"Whoa."

Still not used to that, but she's definitely improved.

"That was impressive," he remarked nodding and smiling--lenses growing wide--as she took a step back, "I feel better. Thanks."

He could give her notes on how well she had done along with all his more scientific observations later, when it was not so late, . . . or maybe right now as she tried to delve into the topic of who had the lucky privilege of beating his behind.

He let go of the silk strand as he gently placed his feet upon the ground, "Oh, just an old lady with a stick down at the local superstore. Those old people are quite fearless, especially for their peach cans."

A small glance towards the duffel bag he set aside on a table. Food and clothes and other essentials were inside. Anything he could afford that Rose had mentioned the church needed. She had enough to worry about, as she had mentioned, and any weight he could take off her shoulders would be good in his book. And he needed to make sure he wasn't adding any weight to her shoulders either.

Taking a step closer, his head swiveled left to right looking about the interior before settling on Rose, "Shouldn't you be asleep? I can sweep the place. Even the ceiling too."

He pointed upwards at the ceiling with one hand as he smirked under the mask.[/div][/div][/div][/div]

 

[Containment]

[googlefont="montaga"][div][attr="style","position:absolute;"]
[div][attr="style","position:relative;left:-181px;top:11px;width:150px;text-align:center;border-radius:15px;background-color:#B70316;background-size:cover;background-repeat:no-repeat;color:ghostwhite;padding:5px;font-family:high tower text;"]The High Priestess

[img style="width:150px;border-radius:15px;" src="[URL]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/426247770299432962/1131433102649069578/My_project.png[/URL]"]

Credit to Illirica for this code[/div][/div][div style="margin-top:11px;padding-top:90px;padding-bottom:90px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:10px;background-image:url([URL]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/426247770299432962/1131432368188694589/seamless-pattern-with-red-rose-flowers-outline-on-the-black-background-floral-hand-drawn-ornament-in-sketch-style-free-vector.jpg);background-attachment:fixed;padding-top:4px;padding-bottom:4px;padding-left:4px;padding-right:4px;[/URL]"][div style="border:5px groove #FF033E;font-family:high tower text;padding:10px;color:ghostwhite;background-color:rgba(0,0,0,0.6);"][font size="3"]There had once been a time when Rose had to localize her magic for the healing to be sufficient and complete, but years of experience had helped her to resolve that. For the Mother’s power to manifest so strongly throughout him, however, it had to be much more serious than an old woman at a corner store. Even in Duskburg. She wanted with all her heart to tell him that it was alright, that he could tell her and she wouldn’t worry. She wouldn’t put herself in danger. But she may be able to have a word with certain factions that would understand if she told them, in no uncertain terms, that he was part of the Church and under Her protection.

Well, that might constitute danger. Perhaps there was a valid reason why he didn’t say anything.

He did so much for her already, though, taking whatever weight he could wherever he could so she had more energy to expend on her mission. They needed her energy more than she did, and with the blessing of the Goddess she had enough to spare for every child. And for him, if he would only let her.

She didn’t tell him that, though. She just listened to what he had to say as she finished the section of the floor she was working on and knocked the broom out twice before sweeping everything into the nearby walking dustpan.

[font color="rosybrown"]“That finishes the sweeping, actually,”[/font] she said, as she turned back to him with a conscious effort to smile more warmly than she felt. It better hid the dark circles she’d started to develop. [font color="rosybrown"]“The offer is deeply appreciated, but I need to keep myself busy. Andrew still hasn’t come home yet. I want to be awake to make sure he’s safe.”[/font]

Because if she wasn’t, she would worry instead of sleeping anyway. If she woke and found out that something had happened to one of the children placed into her care – no. She wouldn’t think about that, because she wouldn’t let Sensation see the additional lines of worry. She set the broom aside against a pew again and crossed the aisle toward him, to the table, and began to quietly unzip the bag.

[font color="rosybrown"]“Let’s see what you brought this time. We should be able to put any food away without waking the kids, now that I don’t have any sleeping at the kitchen table.”[/font]

Even as she started to sift through the clothing, which would have to wait until she could have some of the kids try it on, she found herself smothering a yawn. She did her best to be up with the sun. Some of the kids didn’t really give her a choice, when they needed something. But that meant that going to bed at – what was it now, midnight? Was not as easy as it once was. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make for them, however. And for the Mother Who did not Sleep but could not always be here and had trusted Rose with Her Church in Her stead. And, tired though it might leave her, Rose had yet to disappoint, and she would not begin now.
[/font][/div][/div]

 

[Fill]

That smile. He knew it all too well. The sweeping was done and a small pang of guilt washed over his heart at having not been able to help with a simple chore. All that time spent looking after Duskburg. Maybe a little more energy devoted to its citizens rather than its degenerates would be better suited for his talents. Before he could think too hard on that, Woody echoed the name Rose had given.

"Andrew," he muttered almost bitterly as his eyes narrowed for a moment.

I'm going to need a talk with that kid. Maybe all of them. She shouldn't be up this late.

Shoulders lowering and a sigh followed, his frustration rolled off of him in a wave as he followed Rose towards the duffel bag. He shuffled over next to her and began helping taking out the cans, folded stacks of clothing, as well as hygiene products. Reusable diapers were important, even if in slight excess. Children of all ages were under the protection of this church. Different foods with a long storage life or could be cooked easily were always what he tried to buy for them. That is unless he could buy something and cook a meal for all of them. But those opportunities were few and far between all of his other responsibilities.

But maybe his first responsibility should be to the people who depend on him most. All these children . . . how many had he really helped over the years considering how young he was when he started out. Not to mention Rose who had been effectively younger than him when she began all of this.

I should do something.

As Rose tried stifling a yawn, the beginnings of the sound floated to his ears all the same. He almost yawned himself before stopping, playing it off as a cough and making a small show of hitting his chest softly a few times. An apologetic look--as best as he could mime through the expressive lenses of his mask--followed as he muttered sorry to her. He set aside more diapers, food cans, and toothbrushes and the like until the duffel bag was entirely empty.

A pause followed and Woody found his hand resting on Rose's shoulder. His entire posture leaned down as his head tilted to the side. His eyes meeting hers, even if she could only see the mask.

"Hey, how about you take a nap after we're done with this? I can stay up for Andrew or go looking for him."

A moment passed before he quickly removed his hand from her shoulder, balling it into a fist and pulling the limb close to himself. His attention turned to the various items on the table although he made no move to grab a single one.

"You should get some sleep. You shouldn't stay up for one stupid kid when you've got dozens depending on you."

Especially for the talking I'm about to give him.

. . . he probably sounded like a jerk saying that, didn't he? Too late to take it back now.

 

[Containment]

[googlefont="montaga"][div][attr="style","position:absolute;"]
[div][attr="style","position:relative;left:-181px;top:11px;width:150px;text-align:center;border-radius:15px;background-color:#B70316;background-size:cover;background-repeat:no-repeat;color:ghostwhite;padding:5px;font-family:high tower text;"]The High Priestess

[img style="width:150px;border-radius:15px;" src="[URL]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/426247770299432962/1131433102649069578/My_project.png[/URL]"]

Credit to Illirica for this code[/div][/div][div style="margin-top:11px;padding-top:90px;padding-bottom:90px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:10px;background-image:url([URL]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/426247770299432962/1131432368188694589/seamless-pattern-with-red-rose-flowers-outline-on-the-black-background-floral-hand-drawn-ornament-in-sketch-style-free-vector.jpg);background-attachment:fixed;padding-top:4px;padding-bottom:4px;padding-left:4px;padding-right:4px;[/URL]"][div style="border:5px groove #FF033E;font-family:high tower text;padding:10px;color:ghostwhite;background-color:rgba(0,0,0,0.6);"][font size="3"]Rose did give Sensation a look that bordered on reproach for the way he said Andrew’s name, but didn’t say anything. He seemed to let it go, and she wasn’t going to argue with him on the subject anyway. She’d take care of Andrew. For now, there were other things to do. She couldn’t express her gratitude for the diapers. He knew they were always needed, and donors sometimes forgot.

She smiled again as he stifled his own yawn. He wore himself thin, helping the people around here. Her duties tired her, but she had the Mother’s grace to pull her through it. All he had was his own strength. And still he fought, and even when that fighting exhausted him, he could come here and tell her she needed sleep. Even with everything else he’d taken on, he still decided to come around and help the kids.

She wished words were capable of expressing how much that decision meant to her.

And then he was touching her, hand on her shoulder. His hand was firm, but gentle. On an instinctive level she could feel the danger he was capable of, and yet chose not to be, because of who he was and had chosen to be. It was a vocation stronger than hers, because hers had taken a miracle. Why was there so much worry in those lenses?

She met his lenses with her own tired brown eyes, and wondered if the eyes behind had the same gentle exhaustion. Probably more, even. Her hand reached up to touch his – but he’d taken his back, and she turned the movement into rubbing the back of her neck to avoid any awkwardness.

[font color="rosybrown"]“You need to rest, too,”[/font] she scolded, still smiling. [font color="rosybrown"]“They’re my responsibility, not yours. You do more than enough for us. I couldn’t ask you to take care of that. Any more than–”[/font] She stopped, because that was the Curiosity speaking. Motherhood wasn’t the only aspect of the Goddess she’d inherited, after all. If he wanted to tell her what had happened, he would have. She shouldn’t press. [font color="rosybrown"]“–never mind. You do enough for us. For everyone. He might be a stupid kid, but so were we. He’ll find his way. Someone just needs to be here when he does.”[/font]

And if he continued to be lost, the Mother would be the one who’d need to speak to him, not Rose. There was only so much a mere mortal could do against the unruly nature of a teenager. They’d both know that, from experience.

[font color="rosybrown"]“I’d do the same for all of them. And if it does become too much, She will either come back and help, or send someone who can. She always does.”[/font] Her eyes turned upward, to the Mother-Daughter window. Goddess and Child. She would know, too. She’d had to learn so much faster than anyone else alive. Her words could’ve been a prayer for guidance, or just a comment for someone she knew didn’t believe. But if she needed help, help would come. It had before.[/font][/div][/div]

 

[Fill]

His eyes softened for a moment as she gave him that glare of reproach. The hard countenance and stiff shoulders broke away at a single word. Perhaps it was another reason, the one the other reasons hid behind, why he removed his hand from her shoulder. One look had sent him on the backfoot. For a moment, he thought his fear had made him cruel. Even it was a word uttered in discontent. But Rose's smile came back to her even while scolding him. His brow furrowed under that mask as that same tension crawled its way up his spine.

Did he do enough? For a reason he knew all too well, Rose's words fell flat with him there. He could do more. He should do more. But it would mean giving up part of a life he kept fighting for. That normal life, that normal apartment, that normal family dynamic. How he hid this from his parents and siblings, he never knew. He wondered, for a moment, if Rose thought he distrusted her to hide himself from her, but she should understand right? Masks protected people. Whether the ones worn day-to-day or one he wore when fighting, well, he was not sure if it was always the good fight.

"As long as I am helping here, they are my responsibility as much as yours," Woody spoke, steady as his fists curled into firm balls, "I chose to involve myself in their lives, and I won't see them hurt, even by their own mistakes. At least, not tonight."

So were we. A muffled grunt escaped from the core of Woody's chest as his head tilted downward, shoulders lowering. Rose may have done a few . . . stupid things. But what he had done in his youth? The abuses under his power? Far worse than the actions of any stupid kid. Perhaps it is why he wished to head out.

Stop a mistake to repent of his own.

A step to the side shifted him to turn his head towards the door. Andrew was out there. He should find him and bring him home. It is what he did. But this would keep happening with or without him, wouldn't it? As long as Rose cared for them alone, there would be more stupid kids running out and about when they should not. When it was dangerous and he was not there to protect them.

"And as much as I appreciate your unwavering faith, Rose," the tone he held contained no derision, only a tiredness at a faith unanswered. At Rose's prayers rarely answered beyond her rather unique abilities.

"I don't think she's coming back. She hasn't before and I wouldn't get my hopes up now."

His head raised up as he stood with shoulders back, chin up and smiling under that mask.

"I'll find you some people to help out," Woody nodded, "I should have done it ages ago."

There had to be good people willing to help her, right? Besides, the place was not a complete wreck anymore. It could pass for a sustainable organization of sorts. An insidious whisper, that staunch sour realism, never left him. But he had to be positive, for Rose, at least right now.

Another half-step turn. Turning forward to the door, Woody's eyes turned away from Rose. Almost guiltily so. But she'd never knew with his mask, would she? And he could never stay for too long anyway.

Always someone to help, another crisis to avert. One more problem he had to force himself into.

"You have any ideas where Andrew would typically go?"​