The Leeward Coast was bright and gloriously sunny, this afternoon. The exact directions given to Nia to meet Max were pretty simple: Take Farrington Highway north to the Kuaokala Hunting Ground. As to why it was called a hunting ground was hard to say, save for the seals that were sunning on the beach at various spots. Next to the green information sign with the words 'Kuaokala Hunting Ground' there was a lot with tire tracks running into and out of it.
Sitting at the parking lot was a young woman trying to avoid direct sunlight with a white hoodie, blue jeans, combat boots, and an olive green canvas pack on her back.
There's the sound of an engine, followed not long after by the vehicle to go with it. A small-but-capable SUV gets driven into the parking lot, and pulls up in a space in the shade with not much around it, not too close to where the young woman sits. The driver's door opens, but the man inside doesn't get out just yet, seeming content to reach back into the vehicle for something instead.
Nia sat in the passenger seat of the car Fred was driving (lucky for them, really, as we all know Nia learned to drive in South America, in areas with less in the way of hard core traffic laws). She'd managed to bring him out into the world of more than just sun, beer, and fun, for a little trip to see something she'd said 'he'd absolutely love'. Nia had been quite sure of it, in fact. As he drove to the location, Nia grinned over at Fred and gave him a wink. "This should be so interesting, miu amor. I'm hoping the walking won't be too much, but when Max told me about this place, all I could think was that you'd definitely want to see it." As the SUV rolled to a stop, Nia pointed over to the waiting form of Max. "There she is!" While Fred might have something he needed from the car, Nia really didn't. She hopped out of the passenger seat and lighted to the ground on quiet feet, shutting the door behind her. As far as clothing went, Nia'd gone for the simple route. A pair of cut-off style, jean shorts in faded blue paired with a tank top in a shining, shell pink that looked fairly starkly notable against her caramel tanned skin. Her feet were shod in a set of comfortable looking, KSwiss tennis shoes and a set of small, white, socks. Other than that, it was just a few random, white, scars placed along her legs and on her arms as well that marred the expanse of bare skin. In order to maintain some ease of life, all of her rich, dark, hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and then braided to keep the heavy rope out of her way while they went to... wherever Max was taking them from this parking lot.
The tide is low and rising.
Max squinted at the reflection of the sun off the windshield of the SUV, pulling the hood over her face to guard her eyes as she watched Fred climb out, then Nia. Pushing herself to her feet with a groan, Max offered a wave to the pair. "I'm clearly doing something wrong, if you can be out in the sun with so little clothes compared to me." She gestured to the field behind her, "It's not that far of a walk, I brought water just in case." A dry chuckle came from the woman, "I apologize for the lack of hugs, but it really doesn't do anyone good. So grab whatever gear you thought to bring, and we'll head out." She turned to scan the field, which was mostly devoid of land marks, then started walking slowly. "We're lucky this isn't on the Windward side... Most people don't do well with vog."
Fred drops from the SUV, shouldering a backpack in the process before reaching back in for a walking stick. He closes the door behind him and makes sure the car's locked, then offers Max a nod and a smile. In long trousers, boots, shirt and hat, he's apparently prepared for the wilds, in some form at least. "Hi," he says by way of greeting, then slants a smile in Nia's direction. "Interesting-good, or interesting-interesting?" He's using the stick less now than he was on their arrival in Hawaii, but anything with 'walking' as part of the introduction suggests caution.
Nia gave Fred an enigmatic smile, coming up near his side to tuck her hand in at his lower back, below the backpack. Notably, she avoided being on the side of him with the walking stick. "Interesting as in I think you'll find it at least interesting, maybe more than." Nia's amusement threaded through her words as she went to tiptoe to place a kiss on Fred's cheek, and then promptly followed it with another one, her smile widening significantly in some sort of privately contained and thorough pleasure for the remarkably simple act. "Fred, this is Max, Max, this is Fred, mi amor and Husband." She introduced the two of them as they came to a stop near Max, and then notably did not push for any aforementioned 'unnecessary hugging'. "The sun is something that I've dealt with a long time, pouco sofredor. It will get better with some time, provided you aren't using your arsenal often. The more you use it, the worse it gets."
In truth, it wasn't a long walk through the field, Max paused to look at her feet and a foundation of adobe brick, arranged for a small building. She nodded to herself and continued north for only a couple hundred feet to a line of brick no taller than the grasses in the area. "Fred." She glanced back at Nia kissing Fred, shrugged a shoulder and followed the bricks around. "I guess that makes sense. Prod the snake long enough, and you expect it to strike." Continuing to the east side, she walked midway up that side. "I'm sure a local could explain it better than me, but this kind of brick was used by Spanish Missionaries to build their churches. And like all asshole religions, they like to consume the old and replace it with their own. Like Christ's birthday, which was described as having newborn calves, a Spring time event, being right after the Winter solstice." Max paused, "I'll just be a second. No proper weak spot to knock on."
The hooded woman just disappeared from reality in a blink. Seconds ticked by before the air seemed to tear, a ribbon of purple and black nearly two meters tall waiting.
"Hi, Max," says Fred, with a warm smile, before lurching along in Max's wake. On spotting the bricks he nods, his smile turning wry. He doesn't say anything, though he does blink when Max vanishes from sight - and his eyes do widen at the sight of the tear. "Is that what I think it is, and are we really going in there?"
Nia chuckled before patting Fred's lower back. "Why wouldn't we?" She moved to follow after Max, seemingly completely unsurprised by the fact that the woman disappeared. "She walks between worlds, it was something she could do before the Reds took her." Nia shook her head and chuckled. "Something like that would have been helpful a time or two, si?" She looked Fred over and gave him a wink, then blew him a kiss. "Come on, cara grande. It'll be worth it. And interesting, remember interesting!" And then Nia walked into the crack that led to the NeverNever like she was simply walking across more of the same grassy field.
Max steps through a new opening into the NeverNever.
And Fred follows - albeit with his hand on the shaft of the walking stick rather than the handle.
Fred steps through a new opening into the NeverNever.
The Bone Cathedral
The sun is blood red in a sooty black sky over this Cathedral built of bones. Every bit as elaborate as the grand Gothic cathedrals, this bone church has piercing spires stabbing skyward, each tipped by a fingerbone filed down to a wicked point. The walls are bricked with vertebrae, with skulls for accent splitting the walls into thirds. The support beams and wall joints are defined by femurs and armbones. Over the central nave of the Cathedral dangles a chandelier in the shape of a nine-pointed star, each end bearing a lantern made of a charred black pelvis cradling a pillar candle.
The altar is an imposing structure, set apart on a spiked bone dais. The central table is a flat bed of long bones caged in by curving ribs on the front and both sides. The altarpiece is an elaborate masterwork triptych of gems and carved ivory, each of the three panels depicting a blood sacrifice with glittering ruby.
Max was waiting on the other side, scanning the area of the grounds of the cathedral front while she pulled a metal flare gun out of her bag as well as a pack of spare flares. Glancing back to the emerging couple, the silver haired woman pulled back her hood. "At least the NeverNever sun doesn't break down on me the same. When the parade shows up, try not to beat them with a stick. They are friendly." Digging into her bag, she pulled out a large green foam hand with '#1!' printed on it.
Nia looked at the huge, bone Cathedral and her jaw dropped as she slowly came to a stop. Curiosity had her gaze sweeping over everything she could see, surprise clearly layering itself with levels of being impressed. "Wow... when you said bone cathedral, you really meant it. This place makes the catacombs in France wish they'd taken a few lessons in style." She moved a bit closer, reaching out to touch one of the walls with her fingertips, though gently so as not to disturb anything. Clearly, though, the structure was meant to last, and she let out a soft whistle. "At home, all of the places of sacrifice seem so dull by comparison. Just big, flat, rocks on top of hills. This is... far more elaborate."
Fred, holding the walking stick by the shaft as he steps through the rift instead of actually using it to walk with, stops dead at the sight of the walls as they now are. "Sweet Jesus festering fuck," he breathes, looking up at the towering edifice. "I..." He exhales, then turns to look at Max. "Explains a few things I saw on the way in," he says, then adds, "I think." At the news that whatever's coming next is friendly, his stick resumes leaning duties; Fred takes a few moments to glance around before looking up at the building again. "Fuck."
It started as a low hum in the distance that grow loud and more clear, a chant that was not unlike Gregorian chanting. A parade of cloaked figures, each one covered completely from head to toe, their faces obscured by a black shroud. Four of them carried what looked to be a large black button, like a throne for a king, or the Arc of the Covenant. And in front, a figure whose cloak glittered as if it was made with the stars of the night sky. The procession turned slowly to stop in front of the stairs of the cathedral, as they stopped in unison. The four bearing the button, turned in place and carried the button up the stairs to the main entrance of the cathedral.
Max chuckled, "Like I said... It wasn't going to pop up on any guided tour." She pointed to the cathedral, "I'm sure of we picked the perfect spot, we might be able to jump back to Catacombs under Paris. I've just always had this problem traveling east in a timely manner." She nodded, "There are plenty of sacrificial hills and mounds on these islands around here, that look very similar to the ones in the Amazon. I try not to think too hard about it, because it usually leads to something depressing." Max gestured to Fred, then looked up at the Cathedral, "This place connects to the other side based on what's there, rather than the other side creating what is here. Peel up those bricks, and they wouldn't connect."
Nia nodded her head in agreement, or possibly understanding, or both, as Max spoke. "Como muito curioso... and si, not in the guidebook of fun places to visit while on Oahu." Nia chuckled darkly and continued looking around, at least, until the procession of cloaked figures arrived. Head cocked to the side, Nia moved a little back toward Fred as she watched the beings carry their cargo up to the main entrance. "I could see what you mean by depressing, sure, but also so rich in history and fundamentally human." Nia grinned slightly at the thought. "Though, perhaps, also inhuman. Death has always been something that ties all of these things together, whether those existing intend it to be the case or not."
Fred reaches a hand out reverently to touch the wall - although he doesn't quite connect before he registers the chanting. He pivots to see the procession, then reaches out to touch the wall anyway and run gentle fingertips along one of the bones. "Death is what connects us all," he says, voice quiet. "The question for me is what the bloody hell is this doing /here/?"
The Four with the button carried it before the altar, lowering it to the ground gentle, pulling the four pins out from the corners of the button, and removing the iron carrying rods. The four retreated back, leaving the button. Two over figures at the stairs, grabbed the cloak of another and pulled it aside. Cloakless, the walking figure as no human or demon, but a massive, soft-covered mallet. One of the cloaked figures picked up the hammer with the utmost reverence, and carried it up the stairs in the cathedral, the rest of the procession joining in a single file line behind to advance towards the button.
Max watched the figures form behind the hammer and grinned, "I have followed this procession, and they moved between the sides of the island. Leeward to Windward, and back again. I say depressing these days, because I have something in me that gets excited about the concept of spilling blood. It's also why I try not to think about it too much." Her attention moved to Fred, "Before the Europeans moved in, and probably before that, the islanders were warlike. Extremely so. Heat doesn't do anyone one good, I guess. Cannibalism, blood sacrifices... If the dead rose up, the living wouldn't last a day here."
Nia was almost transfixed by the movements of the cloaked figures, and her eyes widened a bit as she saw them removing the cloak from one of their number. When it was just a giant mallet, though, she grinned and shook her head. "You know, Max, I'm not sure what I expected to happen just then. But this is very interesting." She looked over at Max and grinned a little wider, then over to Fred, her eyes gentle and seamlessly matching her pleased expression. "I'm so glad you came to see this, miu amor, it felt like something I needed to bring you to when Max had mentioned some out of the way spots she had found here."
Fred watches the progress with the button and then the progress with decloaking; at what's revealed he screws one eye shut, apparently trying to work out just what is going on. Apparently that wasn't what he expected. "You get used to spilling blood," he remarks offhand, then nods. "Yeah, like I said, I saw a few things on the way up here. But this, this is definitely different. And so are that lot." he nods towards the cloaked figures, but his free hand goes out towards Nia. "Thank you both."
The mallet-bearing figure approached the button, raising it high over its head, and brought the mallet down with all his might onto the button. With the thudded impact, the line of cloaked figures shook their hand in unison. The mallet was lifted, and passed to the figure in line behind him, and the one that struck hung its head on its way to the back of the line to join it once more. And one by one, the figure with the hammer rose it up and stuck the button with all their might with the same thudded impact and the shaking of heads.
Max kept her eyes of the impacts as she spoke. "While I'm sure there's some great meaning behind all this, I can't help but compare it to a sporting in general. People cheer or boo for something that doesn't matter in the long run... Except for the Brazilian defender that scored on his own team... That guy got murdered." Max shrugged a shoulder in reply, "I've busted a few noses in my time, but getting used to it in my current state would be really bad. I have enough nightmares that I confuse as wet dreams as it is." A dry laugh escaped her, "I offered. Mrs. Paranoid was the one that got over it and brought you. I just opened the door."
Nia moved a little closer still to Fred and took the hand he offered out, squeezing firmly before she nestled in next to him and seemed to be staking out a comfy place to watch whatever was about to happen with the mallet, and the cloaks. When the mallet struck and all of the cloaked figures seemed to be disappointed with the results. She hmmmed softly under her breath, curiosity not allowing her to take her attention away from the movements. "I've found that shedding blood is more a necessity than a thing to revel in. From what I understand of most sacrifice, it usually started as a revelry. Then ended in ecstasy for those left, the relief being a real thing. That knowledge that whatever they were hoping for would be seen to because of giving the life. What I do, it's far less of a thing in that way, but at times still ends with the same relief of knowing that I've moved closer to the thing I'm hoping for. Still.. it's almost impossible to avoid the intense needs that rise up when you do, spill the blood I mean." Nia was speaking almost off-handedly about the multitudes of vampires, infected, and other nasties she'd been part of the killing of, or the primary force, depending on the time frame in her life. But there was something still quietly blissful about her at the moment, watching the strange ritual movements while holding hands with Fred, like they were on some sort of truly romantic date.
Fred watches the hammering with some interest, though it's got that air of bafflement that says he has no idea what's going on here and is worried that he doesn't want to find out. "There's spilling blood and there's spilling blood," he says, with the air of a man who knows. "Sometimes you just /have/ to do it. But you can always choose which blood you spill, even if the choice is to spill your own." His hand squeezes Nia's gently. "There's always a joy that this time it wasn't you - and the knowledge that next time, it might be."
The mallet came down with a resounding 'DING', the cloaked figures shuddered in relief in unison. The mullet was lifted and passed to the next to continue.
Max let out a loud cheer, raising her flare gun to fire it into the air. Breaking the breach of the flare gun, she pulled out the spent flare. "Warrior with a cause, a cause that presented itself and you decided to take as your own. I'm not knocking it, because it's way better than most of the shit people come up with. Paying taxes was never high on my list of musts." Reaching for another shell from the pack, she loaded it into the barrel. "I think that's pretty cool both of you have k--"
The sound of massive wings beat the air, and Max collapsed on the stairs, the flare gun rattling down the stairs. A massive form of seven black wings folded and disappeared, as a gentle shushing over seven tongues crawled out of its mouth. An index finger was held in the air where Max's mouth was. "It is cool, but you don't understand just how yet." Five of the seven arms disappeared leaving a tall man in black chain mail, who turned to Fred and Nia. He was a handsome man with white hair, features carved by the Hands of G-d. A smile set on his lips, and upon his forehead were seven eyes. "Greetings Fred, and your lovely wife." He inclined his head to the pair. "Enjoying your vacation?"
Nia nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment "In more way than one, really. The one shedding, or the one causing the shedding. It's always a relief when it's neither, or at least, sometimes. Maybe it's just as much a double edged sword as anything." She smiled a little as Max mentioned the concept of Warrior with the cause. And then there was the sound of rushing feathers, and the thud, and Nia's attention was quite solidly called away from the men with mallets to the fallen form of Max. Naturally, this called her attention further to the fucking angel that was hushing the girl. Her hand left Fred's immediately and she tensed, her muscles almost vibrating out from under her skin. And then the man greeted Fred like an old friend, and Nia hesitated, blinking, attempting NOT to vamp out. "Uhm... Minha querida? Quem e?" Ah yes, as always, under times of duress, Nia seemed to fall back into Portuguese almost entirely. So fun, but at least Fred did speak Latin, so the concept of 'who the fuck?!' would easily work itself into his ears.
Fred winces as the button goes 'ding', but when nothing happens he relaxes a little. He offers Max a smile, one that broadens at the mention of taxes, but as something else arrives he gapes, then goes down to one knee. "Sir," he says, the word uttered with reverence. "Yes, thank you, sir. Er - is she going to be okay?"
The angel smiled warmly at Nia, and uttered in perfect Portuguese for the sake of language barriers, "Minha querida com sangue vermelho, eu sou o chefe do seu marido." The mallet came down with a soft thud and no ring of the bell, as the cloaked figures shook in unison, so did Azrael, a black iron glove going over his heart as he groaned. Walking towards Nia and Fred, she glanced at Max, and back to the two of them. "The sweetest of dreams, I promise." He gestured to Nia with a roll of his hand, "Individuals who take part in the Sacrament of Marriage are given a pass when one of the individuals partaking are beholden to me. Speak word of this conversation to anyone, I will not look upon her again." The threat spoken with a calm smile, and he took a deep breath. "You are in the neighborhood of my issue, so I felt the need to interrupt your vacation. I need you to erase a man. An accident really. Stressing your connections with me will leave a mark, and result in consequences for many." He gestured to Nia, "She can help as she does not leave my mark."
Nia openly gaped as Fred went down to his knee in front of the Angel, and then she turned her head to stare in a sort of horror at the man who spoke to her in Portuguese. In so far as she'd been alive, Nia hadn't ever professed seeing an angel. Being raised a decided Roman Catholic, however, her reaction made some sense. Still in shock, she fell to her knees, body jostling hard, without it causing any reaction on her utterly transfixed face. She managed to shut her jaw, but it was more to allow her to lick her lips than anything, and finally croaked out "Eu sinto muito, Anjo da Morte. Obrigado, for not hurting Max. She hurts already." Nia blinked and looked away from the angel, settling back so she was seated on her heels, while she looked over at the Sleeping Max, and then back up to the disappointed cloaks. Shock wasn't an easy thing, really, for anyone, and Nia seemed torn between screaming, crying, and going for a bit of a run.
"Thank you," says Fred to his boss, with a glance Nia-wards and then looking up at Azrael again. "Who do you need slotting? And I'm assuming you mean 'None of those nifty abilities you've loaned me', sir." And then to Nia again, Fred reaching out his hand, offering her an anchor in the tempest of divine - or at least semi-divine - intervention.
Azrael stared at the two of them kneeing before him, and rather than chastise, he took went down on one greaved knee to get on their level. His gaze split, one to the main entrance of the Cathedral, another to the cloaked figures, three on Fred, and two on Nia. "The situation has shifted considerably... I'm sure you have noticed, Fred, callings and even your touch seem less divine. The word 'Fall' wouldn't be accurate, but not wholly inaccurate. The exact situation is not for your ears, but know I have no desire to be deified either." The angel took a breath, "Richard Trust... He owns several properties on this island and elsewhere. A business man that converses with entities that make the sort of promises that have long edged his soul towards the Abyss. Deal with him quietly. Better to me unwitnessed by all, and the death ruled accidental. There are a number of unscrupulous sorts that have more information if you require it." His mouth formed a frown, with one eye shifting upward to scan skyward. "And consider permanent residence on Oahu... Nexi make communication easier."
Nia looked like she might be sick when Azrael knelt down to be at the same level as Fred and herself. The brief moment of panic, wondering if she was doing the right thing, was soon stomped on solidly by the memory that she wasn't, in fact, and 11 year old kneeling in church. Rolling her shoulders caused them to both crack soundly, as her muscles had been wound tightly enough to shift her bones. Reaching over to take Fred's hand, she gripped his tightly, and took a slow breath in, nodding her head. "I'll do whatever needs to be done to help Fred out... sir." The word felt so wrong on Nia's tongue it sounded like she'd almost mispronounced something else she'd meant to say. She then glanced over at Fred and gave him a wan smile, though her color was a little pale under the new layer of rich caramel that seemed to have developed over their past week or so in the sun. She was alright, see? All good here. Just don't ask her to stand up yet.
Fred blinks at Azrael, then goes several shades paler. "Explains a few things," he says, then nods. "I won't ask for details, then. But... yeah. If you could see your way clear to find me a copy of the new hymnbook so's I can see what I'm singing off, I'd be obliged." He swallows, gripping Nia's hand almost as tightly as Nia's gripping his, almost clinging to her as his world turns upside-down. "Richard Trust," he says, forcing himself to focus. "Right. And Oahu as a base. On it."
Azrael hung his head as the dull sound of the mallet fell without ring, his eyes between them. "If you have doubts in my purpose, know I am still the Watcher of Humanity, just that I do not perch on High. Seek knowledge of the man I mentioned to know for yourselves, just be careful as not to alert him or his allies." A soft smile appeared on his lips, more eyes going to Fred. "You know yourself, Fred. Your history and the voice inside of you is far better a guide than any hymn I could suggest. If in your understanding, you feel I am Fallen, leave your ring on the altar here, and our contract will end." With a slow and gentle hand, he reached out to touch and caress Fred's forehead. "Trust your eyes to see Truth, and I will weave a song that will pass through creation, seen with those eyes to guide you." His hand retreats from Fred, and the majority of his gaze passed to Nia. "Child, know that suffering is not endless, nor is it pointless." The angel rolled back to his feet, and bowed his head. And with a smile and a thunderous beat of wings and wind, Azrael was gone once more.
Nia held onto Fred like there was some outside force they were doing their level best to avoid being whipped around by, like some sort of hurricane that had hit and they were the only ones seeing it, or feeling it. She swallowed, and could only manage to nod once at Azrael when he spoke to her, indicating she'd heard him. Not necessarily that she could fully grasp what he was saying at the moment, but at least she had the words to mull over later. When the Angel of Death took off it forced her eyes to close against the wind, and when she blinked them open again he was gone, leaving her to look over at Fred with eyes somewhat glistening with tears of possibly terror, horror, or maybe just the ones you get when you're overwhelmed and your body decides you damn well better leak somewhere. "Are you ok, santo mio?" She shifted over toward him, mindless of the scraping of the ground over her bare knees as she moved close enough to reach out with her other hand and cup his jaw.
Fred meets Azrael's eyes - some of them, anyway - and simply nods. "I'll see what I can work out," he says, possibly on many topics at once; he's still clinging to Nia, and at Azrael's touch he goes absolutely still. "Sir," he replies, almost breathing the word, and then with the thunder of wings the angel is gone, leaving Fred staring at Nia. "I... think so," he replies, then visibly pulls himself together. "Er. I think we should collect the kid and make like John Wayne."
The ritual beating of the button continued as Azrael left with another resounding 'DING' and another shiver of relief.
Max groaned, sitting up slowly and she yawned, "Passed out, and..." She checked her jeans, then looked around for the other two. "I swear if you two got lost, I'm going to be pissed." She muttered to herself, crawling over to get her flare gun to close the breach. "It's been awhile since opening a door took that much out of me..."
Nia pushed up to her feet, shakily, but seemed to feel the need to be there to help Fred up. He was wounded and needed the walking stick, after all. She smiled to him, slowly attempting to rebuild the face of a woman that hadn't just witnessed something beyond what she'd figured she'd see in her considerable lifetime. Clearing her throat, she called out softly to Max. "We're not lost, we're still here. We've been enjoying the show and didn't want to leave you there alone, Max. That would have been cruel of us, especially after you brought us over to show us this very remarkable place." She waited until Fred was standing, then left his side to approach Max and smile to her, really, really getting close to an approximation of a worried smile, like she didn't have to push far at all for it. "You Ok?"
Fred, for once in life, actually uses the offered hand up. It's got to be if not a first then something very rare. "We're fine," he replies to Max, propping himself up with the cane. "You okay? I brought a first aid kit, just in case."
Max chuckled tiredly as she got up to collect the foam hand to roll up once more and place in her bag. "I'd just feel really bad taking someone over for a site seeing and end up having them lost. It'd be a total bitch move on my part." The punk smirked and picked up her bag to toss over her shoulder as she stared up at the cathedral. "This place isn't as safe as the one on the other side, but no one in their right minds fuck with those dudes." She indicated the Button Cult with her thumb, "I've spent some time staring at the carvings... House of Death. A bit too goth for my liking, and the whole blood sacrifice thing plays some cords in me." Max shook her head, "Nothing that a pint and sucked dick won't mend up. It's cool." She chuckled, "If you're offering that though, someone will likely get staked." She indicated the air, "Ready to head back?"
Nia nodded her head, waiting until Fred came to where she and Max were before she reached out to slide her arm around his lower back. Maybe she wasn't too steady yet, either. The wry twist to her smile came in concert with a grunted half-laugh. "I think maybe he meant something more along the lines of a band aid. I'm glad you brought us over to show us, Max, it was even more interesting than I figured it would be." She smiled a little and walked through the portal once Max had it opened and ready for them, seemingly ready to get back to some sunshine and something that felt more real than the Cathedral made of the dead. "Do you need a ride home, Max?"
"Yeah, that wasn't the kind of first aid I was thinking of," Fred replies to Max. "And what Nia said. Thank you for showing us this. It's much appreciated..." He glances in again. "Although I still have no idea what they're trying to achieve in there." Portal. Car. Lift for Max if she wants one. And then a suggestion that he and Nia find a church and spend a while doing some soul-searching.
|
