[ the next time Falco opens his front door, there is a small, colorful off-brand Hello Kitty lunchbox (the kind you can purchase at Fruit's Basket) sitting outside addressed to him. inside is a thermos with Earl Grey old English tea - still warm as he finds it before nightfall, and a variety of neatly wrapped pastries. there is a note tucked in between the array of sweets found here in the priest's chicken scratch handwriting that Falco would hopefully be able to decipher: ]
Hello Mr. Falco!
It sounds like you've been having a rough time of things. I left you a few goodies I like to have when I'm having a bad day; hopefully they cheer you up a bit.
Please don't feel obligated, but maybe whenever you feel up to it, maybe we could share the next cup of tea in person! That would make me quite happy. If you don't want to, I completely understand.
[ falco had been home as is, resting in bed after. that. all of that. and eventually feeling too spooked to stay anywhere that wasn’t brightly lit or busy. the quarter built chicken coop outside sunderland cottage would have to wait; he was tired, antsy and had finally worked up the words to call mister mandalorian and ask to sleep at their place for the night. it’s still afternoon as falco gets his belongings ready and leaves a note for mister connor, opens the door and gets ready to swing his bag on the porch while he went to go clean up and put away any tools that were still in the yard.
and then he comes across this. this thing. this cute little kitty lunchbox that has him thinking of gabi and how she would’ve liked the design more than him. looking all around him to check for any signs that someone was nearby, he tentatively takes the box, and the note. it takes a few times to try and read the note, mostly because it was in a language he didn’t understand, but after the sixth attempt at full concentration . . .
no one had ever called him mister, that was more his line of verbal communication from both respect and his age. it’s a sweet gift and it smells wonderful, so neatly packed and well thought of. when he gets to the end, the signed name, something in his chest drops. abel. father abel. jun had said that was his name.
it’s not long after that the priest will get a message on his phone, as soon as falco finds his name there, from the user FALCOGRICE. ]
Hi Father Abel, this is Falco. I just got your gift. I wanted to thank you in person, so if you’re not busy, would you mind sharing these pastries with me before I go somewhere else for the night?
I’m still at the cottage you left the box at. I promise I won’t bite you.
[ oh, Falco... as soon as the priest sees the unread message in his inbox, he can't deny the little wiggle of something like trepidation in his chest. he hadn't expected a reply so soon and he was half expecting the boy to be... angry? bitter? he wasn't sure, really, but he wouldn't have begrudged him either of those feelings.
his heart pangs rather viciously, as he reads the text on the screen.
...he's got his coat in his hands and is out the door before he's finished replying: ]
Please wait for me-- I'll be right there, okay?
[ "won't bite you," he says. oh, this boy...
and he really did hurry; before long, the tall figure is making his approach to the cottage a little bit winded. he ran, it seems-- ]
--Mr. Falco? [ he slows his pace as he approaches with a wave; why is he nervous, of all things? goodness... ]
[ okay was the last the priest would receive as falco awaited, sitting down on the first step of the cottage’s short stairs. he’d see and hear running up the street eventually, staring and squinting to see if it’s who he’s waiting for . . . surely enough, it was. falco’s heart leaps in his chest, equally nervous about the encounter and thinking if the man is upset, fearful, if he’d be avoided or told he was a devil in the ways he’s heard the citizens of marley or foreigners beyond it spit at him and his race. why be so nice—? he had to see for himself and hope things were reparable.
the boy stands, raises his hand and waves in greeting as well as confirmation. ]
That’s, ah— [ he’s suddenly extra nervous, wide eyes a bright hazel but as soft as a fawn’s trying to gauge out the reaction of a priest . . . being attacked, and repulsed by a kid with a poltergeist problem. it’s tentative and awkward as any, but it’s certainly a try in the right direction: inoffensive. his overall posture, energy and demeanor has him looking as hostile as a baby bird. ] H-hello.
[ seeing his nerves mirrored in Falco's own has something... easing, quickly; and whatever hesitation he had felt is quietly melting away. the boy's mannerisms -- no, everything about him was a sincere and complete juxtaposition from the roof. any concerns he had about how Falco felt were swept away.
instead, a concern for the child's unease had taken it's place. no... it wouldn't do for him to feel anything unpleasant, any apprehension or guilt because of things totally beyond his control. especially not with Abel. perhaps he hadn't meant any of the vitriol that had come unbidden from his body, but the priest knew... at least in part, some of it had been deserved.
Abel bridges the distance between them at a slower pace, as if he were concerned with spooking him off; the smile at his lips was both warm and clumsy as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. ]
...I-- [ he starts, and stops-- hesitates, something seeming to cross over his face as he debates internally. the boy's been through enough; he really wants to let him know everything is good between them, so... ]
[ ...but something seems to occur to him. the smile becomes easier.
he crouches, feeling uneasy looming over him like this and wanting their conversation to be imparted where he could look him a little more easily in the eyes. there is something apologetic and a little plaintive in his expression, but it does little to erase the warmth of sincerity as he holds out a hand. ] --It's good to finally see you, Mr. Falco. It seems we haven't met before, so-- I'm hoping the two of us can be fast friends.
falco was characteristically small (he hasn’t hit the peak of his growth spurt, and one could say he lacked the essential nutrition back home to even give it a lift), so crouching would indeed be the best if father abel wanted to see eye to eye. for a moment he only blinks, staring and trying to process the invite because, that was very unexpected!
it’s true, they didn’t meet. the priest had met the silence, instead. ]
[ he could chirp from how the tension is flicked off his shoulders and washed with relief. his smile shows it, his joints relax, and yes! the boy smiles something sweet, nearly a beam as he blinks a few times faster to keep the stinging in his eyes only a passing thought and nothing more.
he’s quick to shake the priest’s hand, close to three times and talking as he did: ]
It’s better to meet you now, Father Abel! And just call me Falco! Or Grice, or, [ giddy, giddy, he turns quickly to grab the thermos given to him and show it off, ] this was really good, I had a sip!
[ ah, well-- that just seals it. any echoes of anything remotely unpleasant have vanished in blue eyes -- and seeing the enthusiastic return of his efforts has worries being assuaged in short order. yes... he really does think he'll find them fast friends. ]
Ah-- did you?! I'm so glad...! I only wish Sister Kate was here to whip up something special; I swear, Falco, that woman is like a wizard with a kettle and some tea leaves. It's practically magic, I'm telling you!
[ pleased and smiling like the power of an ENTIRE SUN had been encapsulated in his face, he ruffles the boy's hair gently. one would have to have a heart made out of diamonds forged in hellfire cursed by Satan himself not to melt at the sight of this adorableness. ]
Do you have a sweet tooth? I wasn't sure, but-- I figured if you don't like sweet things, you could always let me know and I could find you something else!
[ what a talkative priest! the brightest, like the sun itself! falco pays attention and nods to every detail. sister kate, a friend of father abel’s that can make a mean tea: he’ll remember that! ]
I love sweets . . . !
[ which brings his attention back to the gifted lunch box full of neatly packed pastries, that now he could only assume were the sweet kind. time to sit on the cottage porch’s first staircase, which he hopes abel will join him as he opens the heya catty box full of delectables. ]
[ he's sorry Falco he never shuts up, please feel free to tell him to be quiet..... it probably won't work but he'll try...!! ]
[ well, after a moment-- he takes this as invitation to join him! and so he does go and sit right next to him. big tall lanky loser next to this little bundle of cuteness... wow... ]
They're macrons~! Have you had them before...? Miss Doll made them for me! [ she is the literal best Falco like... just the literal best. let her spoil you, too. ]
[ uhhhh when u are crushing on a girl who yells so much mountains move a talkative priest is like an old friend 😌 ]
Macrons . . . [ he repeats, taking two of the pastries from the box; one for himself, and one to hand to father abel. ] I don’t think so. What’s Miss Doll like?
[ FALCO you have a crush.......... this is adorable ]
[ he gently takes the offered pastry with pleasure ]
Oh, Miss Doll...? She's wonderful~! [ suddenly: dreamy-eyed ] She's very sweet, Falco, you'll really like her...! She's got a very kind heart even though I think she's the sort to have been through a lot in life. And though I think things are still hard, she's always doing her best to make others happy...
[ he turns the little cat-shaped macron over in his fingers, thoughtfully ]
I think you'd like her a lot. And-- it might be good for both of you to become friends, if you gave it a shot!
[ told her he wanted to marry her and everything even if that was the near death experience talking 😳
falco continues to listen as he unwraps the treat and gives it a bite— a bite that very suddenly!!! has him looking more serious—? he’s taking another bite and—! ]
It’s so good! [ not to make it sound like he should want to be friends with someone just because of their cooking but, ] I definitely will!
[ he’s almost done with it . . . what a pleasure. ]
[ he is clearly pleased that Falco enjoys the sweets, both because they were a gift from Doll and because it’s quite nice to see the boy happy. it’s clear to see he’s been through more than his fair share... someone so young shouldn’t have to bear the quiet burden in his eyes ]
[ but his smile is seemingly carefree and just as upbeat as he answers ]
Oh, me? Well, I’m afraid I’m a rather boring sort of person when it comes to hobbies and the like... I’m always traveling back at home, so I don’t get much time to sit still, you know? But I like to garden~! Growing vegetables is a lot of fun, especially when you get to eat the fruits of your labor! Veggies of your labor...?
Ah— how about you, Falco? What do you do for fun? You must be in school back at home, right?
[ the simplest of hobbies— traveling included— is more than enough for a boy who only knew the travel to a battlefield or the walls of an internment zone. hearing about so much moving around could be tiring, but it could also be an adventure on its own. gardening sounds like something peaceful, and falco can't help a chuckle behind lips peppered with crumbs and trying to keep a smile from spreading too much with his mouth full.
he'd rather has focus on that sort of fun than his own life back home. ah, he starts, bringing a closed hand in front of his mouth whilst chewing fast enough finish off a swallow. ]
I, uh, [ gesture, ] not really, Father Abel. [ where fun is concerned, at least (but education also not something he's had much of, ] I don't have that kind of . . . High Being? Back home. But we're taught basics.
[ he actually . . . doesn't have a hobby. he never had time for a hobby. ]
I'm thinking of taking care of chickens here, and I've been exploring a lot— do those count as hobbies?
[ he echoes the words with a quizzical expression, nudging at his glasses absently. the hesitation in Falco's response combined with the delicate wording... hm. he doesn't want to pry, to make him uncomfortable-- especially since the priest is aware he's been through the wringer lately, but the information is stored for later. ]
Oh-- yes, that definitely counts! [ his smile returns with a vengeance ] Though do you mind if I ask... why chickens?
[ hmmm now that’s something that gets him to open and close his mouth. ]
Because the males fight with each other and I need to practice the gift Master Admin gave me. [ it was . . . straightforwardly sincere, and for a second ducks his head, with an implied apology. you get a free confession! ] I made a post about it earlier but I didn’t say that, because . . . Putting roosters together on purpose is cruel. But I still promise I won’t let them hurt each other, and I’ll keep them separated for most of the day!
[ ...it's as if the world tried to smush as much cuteness into one small person as they could, and the end result was Falco. Abel is looking at him for moment-- just sort of taken aback by the adorable sincerity in these words... ]
[ before he chuckles softly, and rests his hand lightly on the boy's head to ruffle his hair in a gently teasing, fond gesture ]
Hens are cute, I'll give you that. And I bet you'll do a wonderful job looking after them, the roosters too! They'll be lucky to have such a kind caretaker.
[ but-- ]
But you mentioned... a gift? Something the Admin gave you? [ that is cause for some concern, not only because of the child's circumstances, but the priest does not trust that man ]
[ hair ruffles are always good as they are welcomed, eyes pressing shut with a smile. it helps warm off the edge of feeling guilty, and he supposes a priest was a good person to be honest to? since he already started off, there wasn’t a reason to fall back. he reaches close to his pocket, where a holster is clipped. he pulls a marble sized orb from the holster, and cups it in his palms; a gentle blue light warms from it. ]
I asked for a rifle, so I could protect people, but . . . [ there was titan shifting too, but that . . . not only was it unstable, it was also overkill. the little orb rolls in his hand from side to side as he dips them gently. ] I never liked them. I don’t like hurting anyone. He gave me this instead, and said that if I practice hard enough, [ he holds his hand up with his palm curved up, just enough to keep it in place, ] it’d make anything lose its need for violence If I wanted them to.
[ it’s . . . a lot of responsibility. in the wrong hands, it could be a destructive advantage over people. it could make them defenseless over falco. he’s also a boy of his word though: he promised not to use it for anything that wasn’t either self defense or for someone’s own. the thought of it being with anyone else makes him swallow, tightly. ]
It’s just for a few minutes, but I think that’s more than enough to save someone. You won’t tell anyone else, right?
[ even if admin said it, that was alright. at least word didn’t come from falco when it came to others. he could become just as much of a weapon if the wrong person knew. ]
[ he can't help but give something of a start at the warm, ethereal light produced from the marble-sized ball; he hasn't seen anything quite like it. the boy's explanation does little to quell the feeling of wonder-- and soft appreciation for the child's gentle nature. the more he talks with him, the more assured Abel is that Falco...? is a kind-hearted, sweet boy who hardly deserved to be here... ]
[ ...but he was. ]
[ when he extolls the purpose of the orb, Abel can't help but stare at it. it could pacify someone? that was... immensely powerful-- Falco had the right gist of it, and not for the first time, the priest is left wondering at the Admin's intentions, left trying to figure out the sort of person who would give this to the boy. ]
It's beautiful...
[ he finds himself gently nodding his head in answer ] ...Of course. This will stay between us, okay? Please don't worry. [ it was a lot of responsibility to place on Falco's shoulders, this deceptively small object... but... ]
I think... you're the perfect master for this. If you learn how to use it well, then... you'll be able to do a lot of good with it. [ he hopes he would never have to use it-- but if he did... Abel knew he would do so wisely and with a pure heart ]
[ his heart swells with possibility and hope. he hopes he can. he feels like he needs to and nods gratefully, cupping the orb and slipping it back into its holster. ]
I hope so . . . [ he takes the moment to take the thermos he was given to take a sip of the tea— very good tea. ] Master Admin said it’d help with my, [ a beat, before he sets the bottle down, slides his blazer off his shoulders to reveal what the collar had covered off: two purple swirls adjacent to each other enough that they form an uncanny “S” together, with large tendrils extending into his scalp, hidden by hair, and down to the start of his shoulders, ending at the space just before the nape on both sides. ] problem.
[ and if he wanted to see it better, he’d be given more room to. ]
[ ah-- he is leaning in a bit as Falco displays the mark on his neck, and his brow furrows softly together in consternation. the purple swirls... so this is what it looked like. at least it gave him some context for the issue the boy had been forced to face, but... ]
...Does it hurt, Falco?
[ the question is quiet. he wishes he had the strength of his colleagues, some way to remove this for him. perhaps he was a priest, but he hadn't been gifted with magic or spiritual energy or anything of the like - all he had was the sincere wish to make this child's burden vanish ]
Only with “Holy Water”. Right now it’s just, [ he rubs it again, gently before his hand is sliding back down to his lap. ] numb, like if I had ice on it for a really long time.
[ there’s something that’s been plaguing his thoughts, though. something stupid but still a concern that eats away at the attempts to say it: his lips move, but he doesn’t speak, only to suck in breath right after inhaling to start. ]
Back home they’d call us descendants of the devil. [ it’s a long history that falco doesn’t agree with, he’s just as human and deserving as everyone else, but . . . ] This doesn’t mean that’s true, does it?
[ because holy water was a quick association for agony, now, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself it was for good. you can’t quite convince someone with a phobia for needles that it won’t hurt— because it was terrifying even if needed. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
left outside of Falco's residence - afternoon of 10/14
Hello Mr. Falco!
It sounds like you've been having a rough time of things. I left you a few goodies I like to have when I'm having a bad day; hopefully they cheer you up a bit.
Please don't feel obligated, but maybe whenever you feel up to it, maybe we could share the next cup of tea in person! That would make me quite happy. If you don't want to, I completely understand.
Either way, please enjoy and feel better soon.
Yours,
Father Abel
no subject
and then he comes across this. this thing. this cute little kitty lunchbox that has him thinking of gabi and how she would’ve liked the design more than him. looking all around him to check for any signs that someone was nearby, he tentatively takes the box, and the note. it takes a few times to try and read the note, mostly because it was in a language he didn’t understand, but after the sixth attempt at full concentration . . .
no one had ever called him mister, that was more his line of verbal communication from both respect and his age. it’s a sweet gift and it smells wonderful, so neatly packed and well thought of. when he gets to the end, the signed name, something in his chest drops. abel. father abel. jun had said that was his name.
it’s not long after that the priest will get a message on his phone, as soon as falco finds his name there, from the user FALCOGRICE. ]
Hi Father Abel, this is Falco. I just got your gift. I wanted to thank you in person, so if you’re not busy, would you mind sharing these pastries with me before I go somewhere else for the night?
I’m still at the cottage you left the box at. I promise I won’t bite you.
no subject
his heart pangs rather viciously, as he reads the text on the screen.
...he's got his coat in his hands and is out the door before he's finished replying: ]
Please wait for me-- I'll be right there, okay?
[ "won't bite you," he says. oh, this boy...
and he really did hurry; before long, the tall figure is making his approach to the cottage a little bit winded. he ran, it seems-- ]
--Mr. Falco? [ he slows his pace as he approaches with a wave; why is he nervous, of all things? goodness... ]
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the boy stands, raises his hand and waves in greeting as well as confirmation. ]
That’s, ah— [ he’s suddenly extra nervous, wide eyes a bright hazel but as soft as a fawn’s trying to gauge out the reaction of a priest . . . being attacked, and repulsed by a kid with a poltergeist problem. it’s tentative and awkward as any, but it’s certainly a try in the right direction: inoffensive. his overall posture, energy and demeanor has him looking as hostile as a baby bird. ] H-hello.
1/2
instead, a concern for the child's unease had taken it's place. no... it wouldn't do for him to feel anything unpleasant, any apprehension or guilt because of things totally beyond his control. especially not with Abel. perhaps he hadn't meant any of the vitriol that had come unbidden from his body, but the priest knew... at least in part, some of it had been deserved.
Abel bridges the distance between them at a slower pace, as if he were concerned with spooking him off; the smile at his lips was both warm and clumsy as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. ]
...I-- [ he starts, and stops-- hesitates, something seeming to cross over his face as he debates internally. the boy's been through enough; he really wants to let him know everything is good between them, so... ]
2/2
he crouches, feeling uneasy looming over him like this and wanting their conversation to be imparted where he could look him a little more easily in the eyes. there is something apologetic and a little plaintive in his expression, but it does little to erase the warmth of sincerity as he holds out a hand. ] --It's good to finally see you, Mr. Falco. It seems we haven't met before, so-- I'm hoping the two of us can be fast friends.
(1/2)
falco was characteristically small (he hasn’t hit the peak of his growth spurt, and one could say he lacked the essential nutrition back home to even give it a lift), so crouching would indeed be the best if father abel wanted to see eye to eye. for a moment he only blinks, staring and trying to process the invite because, that was very unexpected!
it’s true, they didn’t meet. the priest had met the silence, instead. ]
(2/2)
he’s quick to shake the priest’s hand, close to three times and talking as he did: ]
It’s better to meet you now, Father Abel! And just call me Falco! Or Grice, or, [ giddy, giddy, he turns quickly to grab the thermos given to him and show it off, ] this was really good, I had a sip!
no subject
Ah-- did you?! I'm so glad...! I only wish Sister Kate was here to whip up something special; I swear, Falco, that woman is like a wizard with a kettle and some tea leaves. It's practically magic, I'm telling you!
[ pleased and smiling like the power of an ENTIRE SUN had been encapsulated in his face, he ruffles the boy's hair gently. one would have to have a heart made out of diamonds forged in hellfire cursed by Satan himself not to melt at the sight of this adorableness. ]
Do you have a sweet tooth? I wasn't sure, but-- I figured if you don't like sweet things, you could always let me know and I could find you something else!
no subject
I love sweets . . . !
[ which brings his attention back to the gifted lunch box full of neatly packed pastries, that now he could only assume were the sweet kind. time to sit on the cottage porch’s first staircase, which he hopes abel will join him as he opens the heya catty box full of delectables. ]
What kind of pastries are these?
no subject
[ well, after a moment-- he takes this as invitation to join him! and so he does go and sit right next to him. big tall lanky loser next to this little bundle of cuteness... wow... ]
They're macrons~! Have you had them before...? Miss Doll made them for me! [ she is the literal best Falco like... just the literal best. let her spoil you, too. ]
no subject
Macrons . . . [ he repeats, taking two of the pastries from the box; one for himself, and one to hand to father abel. ] I don’t think so. What’s Miss Doll like?
[ he’s heard the name before! ]
no subject
[ he gently takes the offered pastry with pleasure ]
Oh, Miss Doll...? She's wonderful~! [ suddenly: dreamy-eyed ] She's very sweet, Falco, you'll really like her...! She's got a very kind heart even though I think she's the sort to have been through a lot in life. And though I think things are still hard, she's always doing her best to make others happy...
[ he turns the little cat-shaped macron over in his fingers, thoughtfully ]
I think you'd like her a lot. And-- it might be good for both of you to become friends, if you gave it a shot!
no subject
falco continues to listen as he unwraps the treat and gives it a bite— a bite that very suddenly!!! has him looking more serious—? he’s taking another bite and—! ]
It’s so good! [ not to make it sound like he should want to be friends with someone just because of their cooking but, ] I definitely will!
[ he’s almost done with it . . . what a pleasure. ]
What about you, Father? What do you like doing?
no subject
[ but his smile is seemingly carefree and just as upbeat as he answers ]
Oh, me? Well, I’m afraid I’m a rather boring sort of person when it comes to hobbies and the like... I’m always traveling back at home, so I don’t get much time to sit still, you know? But I like to garden~! Growing vegetables is a lot of fun, especially when you get to eat the fruits of your labor! Veggies of your labor...?
Ah— how about you, Falco? What do you do for fun? You must be in school back at home, right?
no subject
he'd rather has focus on that sort of fun than his own life back home. ah, he starts, bringing a closed hand in front of his mouth whilst chewing fast enough finish off a swallow. ]
I, uh, [ gesture, ] not really, Father Abel. [ where fun is concerned, at least (but education also not something he's had much of, ] I don't have that kind of . . . High Being? Back home. But we're taught basics.
[ he actually . . . doesn't have a hobby. he never had time for a hobby. ]
I'm thinking of taking care of chickens here, and I've been exploring a lot— do those count as hobbies?
no subject
[ he echoes the words with a quizzical expression, nudging at his glasses absently. the hesitation in Falco's response combined with the delicate wording... hm. he doesn't want to pry, to make him uncomfortable-- especially since the priest is aware he's been through the wringer lately, but the information is stored for later. ]
Oh-- yes, that definitely counts! [ his smile returns with a vengeance ] Though do you mind if I ask... why chickens?
no subject
Because the males fight with each other and I need to practice the gift Master Admin gave me. [ it was . . . straightforwardly sincere, and for a second ducks his head, with an implied apology. you get a free confession! ] I made a post about it earlier but I didn’t say that, because . . . Putting roosters together on purpose is cruel. But I still promise I won’t let them hurt each other, and I’ll keep them separated for most of the day!
[ and, after a nearly awkward pause. ]
A-and, the hens are cute.
1/2
2/2
Hens are cute, I'll give you that. And I bet you'll do a wonderful job looking after them, the roosters too! They'll be lucky to have such a kind caretaker.
[ but-- ]
But you mentioned... a gift? Something the Admin gave you? [ that is cause for some concern, not only because of the child's circumstances, but the priest does not trust that man ]
no subject
I asked for a rifle, so I could protect people, but . . . [ there was titan shifting too, but that . . . not only was it unstable, it was also overkill. the little orb rolls in his hand from side to side as he dips them gently. ] I never liked them. I don’t like hurting anyone. He gave me this instead, and said that if I practice hard enough, [ he holds his hand up with his palm curved up, just enough to keep it in place, ] it’d make anything lose its need for violence If I wanted them to.
[ it’s . . . a lot of responsibility. in the wrong hands, it could be a destructive advantage over people. it could make them defenseless over falco. he’s also a boy of his word though: he promised not to use it for anything that wasn’t either self defense or for someone’s own. the thought of it being with anyone else makes him swallow, tightly. ]
It’s just for a few minutes, but I think that’s more than enough to save someone. You won’t tell anyone else, right?
[ even if admin said it, that was alright. at least word didn’t come from falco when it came to others. he could become just as much of a weapon if the wrong person knew. ]
no subject
[ ...but he was. ]
[ when he extolls the purpose of the orb, Abel can't help but stare at it. it could pacify someone? that was... immensely powerful-- Falco had the right gist of it, and not for the first time, the priest is left wondering at the Admin's intentions, left trying to figure out the sort of person who would give this to the boy. ]
It's beautiful...
[ he finds himself gently nodding his head in answer ] ...Of course. This will stay between us, okay? Please don't worry. [ it was a lot of responsibility to place on Falco's shoulders, this deceptively small object... but... ]
I think... you're the perfect master for this. If you learn how to use it well, then... you'll be able to do a lot of good with it. [ he hopes he would never have to use it-- but if he did... Abel knew he would do so wisely and with a pure heart ]
no subject
I hope so . . . [ he takes the moment to take the thermos he was given to take a sip of the tea— very good tea. ] Master Admin said it’d help with my, [ a beat, before he sets the bottle down, slides his blazer off his shoulders to reveal what the collar had covered off: two purple swirls adjacent to each other enough that they form an uncanny “S” together, with large tendrils extending into his scalp, hidden by hair, and down to the start of his shoulders, ending at the space just before the nape on both sides. ] problem.
[ and if he wanted to see it better, he’d be given more room to. ]
And Father Orden said it was safe, for now.
no subject
...Does it hurt, Falco?
[ the question is quiet. he wishes he had the strength of his colleagues, some way to remove this for him. perhaps he was a priest, but he hadn't been gifted with magic or spiritual energy or anything of the like - all he had was the sincere wish to make this child's burden vanish ]
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[ there’s something that’s been plaguing his thoughts, though. something stupid but still a concern that eats away at the attempts to say it: his lips move, but he doesn’t speak, only to suck in breath right after inhaling to start. ]
Back home they’d call us descendants of the devil. [ it’s a long history that falco doesn’t agree with, he’s just as human and deserving as everyone else, but . . . ] This doesn’t mean that’s true, does it?
[ because holy water was a quick association for agony, now, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself it was for good. you can’t quite convince someone with a phobia for needles that it won’t hurt— because it was terrifying even if needed. ]
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