• PM To Join • A Curse That Haunts

(Faith) Patrick realizes he's got a problem developing.

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Patrick
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A Curse That Haunts

Ashan 54 718, Evening

Location: On the way to Cally's

His mind had been racing ever since it almost happened. Not long after sundown earlier he was doing his usual, fraternizing with the locals as it was all part of his job. Yet the last lady he mingled with earlier had to be cut short of their time together, hell he didn't even have a chance to tear any clothes off. Probably because there was an issue at large he never realized, a tiny little misstep could've ended as disastrous as it nearly did in Rharne. He had never forgiven himself for that mistake, and had done everything he could to manage it ever since.

Once he came in possession of Ymiden's ring however the danger seemed less prevalent compared to before, he could easily suppress the urges that were associated with his curse before. Now it seemed... that they were slowly returning to him. It was no surprise as to why now that he thought about it, the ring could only 'cage' the beast within for so long after all. And after what had happened in Southguard somewhere near Etzos, the ring had never been in the same condition since then.

Though light a crack resided over some of the ancient language that glowed faintly, the orange highlight of Ymiden's words slightly darker than their usual colors. This could only mean the beast was getting closer to building overwhelming rage, and granted Ellen'wyn and those in Southguard stopped him mid-transformation... he could only guess that a large amount of the rage had been closed within. He should've paid more attention to it before, to the fact his turn warranted greater caution. Not with those within or around Etzos but with himself also, because if he damaged the ring beyond repair... then how the hell was he to manage containment?

What happened earlier was too close of a call for him, and now that he was more aware he needed to alert another. Likely a bad idea but considering she proved trustworthy enough, Pat moved on his way to Cally's as it appeared they were closing up in a little while. Hopefully. There were still people inside eating when he entered, and while the food smelt delicious it hardly appealed to his current craving. So rather than sit at the table and wait he moved to the area where the kitchen was, and called out the name "Faith?" in question as he popped his head in there. It must've startled the poor Biqaj Trudy as she looked to Patrick quickly, while the chef seemed to curse and hiss something out of the blue from his intrusion.

It didn't take long for him to realize that... what he heard was the result of an accidental cut to the finger, due to the surprise of someone barging in unannounced. There were swears to be sure but Patrick's mind had already blocked them out, as he could already see the very thing his appetite craved. Blood. Immediately his mouth watered as all thoughts were reduced to one as he zoned out, his eyes fixated on the injury as he gripped the doorway tightly to prevent himself from stepping further in. "Don't do it... Don't fucking do it." He urged himself as he felt his own muscles strain to resist, the wood in the door slightly creaked as he fought against the subconscious urges that pulled him forward.

He could feel his heart loudly pound in his chest as his pulse drummed through his entire skull, while his sense of perception seemed vividly drowned out by the one thing that distracted him most.
Last edited by Patrick on Fri May 18, 2018 8:46 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 623
"Freedom is everything."


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A Curse That Haunts

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It was rare that Faith worked late in Cally's any more. Padraig and she had discussed it and, between the work at the Order of the Adunih, the University and, of course, the Faction and the charity work that she did, she ran the risk of exhausting herself. She knew that and yet, Cally's was what brought in the money for the faction. For the orphanage and the soup kitchen, for the faction. All of it relied on this place running and bringing in money. It had to do that in order for everything and so, when Joqet got sick, Faith went in.

So, as luck (or not) would have it, she was there when Patrick came in. Lifting her head as she heard him call her name, Faith frowned and stepped forward. But before she could see who was at the door calling her, Faith saw one of the trainees slip and cut herself quite badly on the finger. "It's alright, here we go," damnit but the girl was new and Faith should have been keeping a better eye. They were short staffed though and she'd dropped her attention for a trill. Taking hold of the girl's hand, she glanced at who was at the door and she saw Patrick.

But, quite obviously, something was wrong and as she saw, and heard, his hand tightening on the door and she looked at him and saw what he was looking at, where he was fixated. Thanks to her Bellinos blessing, Faith never forgot anything anyhow, but she was unlikely to forget that he'd told her he'd been cursed by Syroa. Damnit but this was the last thing. What was he thinking coming here? Here where there were people? Innocent people.

Taking the hand of the trainee, Faith bowed her head and mist like tendrils moved out from the willow-tree tattoo on her chest and wrapped the injured finger in light. It closed up and Faith smiled slightly. "No harm done. You alright?"

Washing the blood off her hands she motioned for Patrick. "Let's go outside." It was rare that Faith left the kitchen was she was working, but she knew that she had to get him out of here. "Alright, so you're .... I can calm you down. Will you let me help you?" Or, thought Faith, am I going to have to knock you unconscious and scream blue bloody murder? She didn't say that, thinking that perhaps, just perhaps, it might mean he didn't calm down as easily.
word count: 430
This PC is dead. See this thread for details.
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It would soon be a greater relief knowing Faith was there after all when he had entered, albeit his timing probably far more improper than ever considering the woman worked also. He had never really outright seen Faith so busy in a room before, mostly because he didn't dare bother her any more than he had to naturally. And with good reason. She'd seen a lot more of his bad than his good recently, therefore coming here tonight certainly wasn't a plan he intended to carry out. Something however insisted he head to her and part of him suspected that it had been his brother Dominek, although that couldn't really be a certainty since the dead brother had little ways of impacting the physical world.

At the sight of that blood however... madness nearly took over. Before when these episodes occurred it was somewhere relevant to that of a sobered drug-abuser, in need of that next high as it physically and mentally took a heavy toll on their body. This time around however it was far greater... far more heavier with the internal need and desire. Almost immediately he could detect that noticeable smell of iron, and thus his grip grew tighter on the door frame. "Hang in there little brother!" Dominek had encouraged as he appeared right next to Patrick, although only visible to Faith due to her supernatural gift with the lingering dead.

The girl in question had become a strong fixation of his temptation, almost part of him felt ready to lunge out and snatch the limb with the injury. Luckily after enough time spent in restraint Faith, yet again, saved the Trial with another one of her magical superpowers. Just how gifted was this woman?! The tendrils of light that regenerated the wound in a flash surprised him sure enough, and when all signs of blood were cleaned away he relaxed just a little. At the suggestion to head outside Patrick said nothing, just nodded as he agreed that would be best. The less people he were around... the better he could count them safe considering...

Once they were outside the question of allowing her to help he nodded, although the implication left open to interpret amused him still. Could Pat be helped right now? Honestly he didn't know. He wasn't going to turn due to the ring's power, but that didn't rule out the fact he could still feel the curse's influence now. "I need you... I wouldn't have come otherwise..." He admitted as he moved several feet away from her, his head and arms pressed into the wall of Cally's in a sudden urge of agitation.

"Part of Patrick's curse has involved these... unnatural urges to crave blood and..." Dominek's voice trailed off as he didn't outright want to explain the whole ordeal, plus Faith was clearly perceptive enough to paint the rest of the picture or so he thought. "Usually the ring he's wearing there helps block that part of him, as well as contain the rage of the beast that's in him so long as it's on."

"But it's cracked!.." Patrick groaned as he quietly hissed at another impulse, this time driven towards the one person that was out there with him. He wouldn't give in though. Not like last time! He swore he would never again allow himself to hurt another, no matter how fierce the next craving would become. By now however it ailed him to the point where regular food hardly felt satisfactory, and his body ached as though it required something of that nature to satisfy. He twisted around slowly and pressed his back into the wall, a slow descent to the ground followed as he sat with hands pressed between his knees. "Ever since Southguard happened..." Seven asses he didn't want to try and remember that incident again!

He wanted to put all that behind him, leave it in the past where it belonged. But truthfully he doubted he could, everywhere he seemed to go the curse haunted him still. Dominek moved from Faith's side to kneel down next to his brother, a hand gripped at his shoulder in heavy concern for his little brother. "He's strong but not as strong as he projects, he needs something to at least sate the craving. Otherwise he might get worse... He's gone without it or even turning since last Cylus, and now that the ring's been damaged he's struggling to cope..." Hence Dominek's point finally became revealed to Faith, the reason why he refused to leave his brother was because of moments like this.

Moments where Patrick had almost next to no one to go to, and usually any one he did wound up hurt or distanced later.
Last edited by Patrick on Fri May 18, 2018 8:48 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 816
"Freedom is everything."


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"I understand, you don't need to worry about that right now. Concentrate on your breathing and keeping yourself calm," Faith said, her voice soft and calm as they stood outside. She glanced at Dominek and she sighed slightly. "Patrick, I need you to listen to me," need was absolutely the right word there and she explained why that was to him. "I can help you calm, but I have to concentrate. If my concentration is broken, it can hurt me." She looked at him with earnest silver eyes there in the darkness of the garden. She didn't doubt for a moment that Patrick did not want to harm anyone, and it was important that she made the consequences clear to him.

"So, I'd like you to sit down, and I need to stand behind you. I have to touch your temples and I'm short." There was no doubting the truth of that, she was a tiny person. "And we're going to breath together, you and I, alright?" If he'd allow her, she'd lead him or gesture for him to sit and then she'd go and stand behind him. It was true, every word she said and she needed them both to understand that.

"Alright, breathe with me, then. In... two, three, four. That's good." Faith got him breathing in a calm and rhythmically and then she calmed herself and used her Sevrath granted ability, "calming minds". With a prayer of thanks to Moseke, Faith concentrated as she worked. Her fingers gently massaged his temples and as she did, though he could not see it, tendrils of green-yellow mist rose from her chest, where the tattoo of a willow tree now glowed.

But, if Patrick concentrated, then it should calm him down and Faith hummed a quiet, soothing tune as she worked. "How are you feeling?" Faith asked and she sounded genuinely concerned. Blood was sacred to Famula, it was one of Her Domains and Faith would not be giving any to anyone in order to sate their craving, brought about by Syroa. That wasn't happening. She'd get him some blood pudding or good rare steak but mortal blood?

Not happening. "Keep up the breathing. Dominek is going to tell me as much as he can. Every detail of this curse. Lets see what we can do, shall we?"

Though what that might be, Faith had no idea. But she had a lot of faith in Famula, Moseke and Vri and she trusted that they would show her the way.
word count: 431
This PC is dead. See this thread for details.
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"I'm sorry..." Patrick muttered in his breath lowly just to where only he could hear, it had been only once the word would seem to slip out. Yet it repeated within the confines of his mind, over and over again as every horrible memory associated with this curse flashed in sequence. He had felt such guilt over everything he'd done, even if he wasn't outright aware or in control of what led him to doing it all. Faith genuinely seemed concerned and more than willing to help him out, no matter how much he didn't want to have to ask her to in the end. That sort of selflessness from someone such as her...

Honestly it was rare for Patrick to discover that in others, usually he never wanted to hinder them because he felt less than worthy. Less than necessary when it came to the help they were willing to give him. As he listened and did his best to concentrate on the breathing, he nodded to show that he understood her words well enough. It was the least he could do granted he was the problem in this instance, and right now the only real solution available was to entrust Faith to pull through somehow. Sure enough she already had some kind of answer, one that involved the both of them breathing together in unison it would seem. Breathing exercises. He remembered last time she were involved in that, and the sudden raw pinch that accompanied it afterwards.

He knew better than to expect another instance of pain from her, since this was no such visit as it were the first time. No. This was something she risked even her own well being with, and in hearing that he immediately refrained from moving up from his spot. He didn't want that. He didn't want her to risk hurting herself, but at the same time the hunger deep in his being called for something. Patrick couldn't honestly expect to continue this losing battle by himself, and while he remained incapable of hearing his brother somehow he knew what Dom would say. "Please lil' brother, please just do it for once." Those were words that echoed deep within the reaches of his head, as they carried far deeper into his past in comparison to this dreaded curse. How often did he hear Dominek ask him to do something, or insist to with those exact words fed to him no less?

Somehow... sentiment led him to give in and while he certainly felt like a complete mess of regret, Patrick reluctantly moved to sit on his knees so he could scoot away from the wall. Albeit 'scoot' was almost a meager crawl as he felt his body temper rise some, and for a moment he dreaded that the curse would take him over once again... like so many times before. An entire arc spent enduring horrible transformations, an entire arc of being alone at every turn. And why? Because those that helped were those that were either hurt or worse... Those at the Lightning Cathedral for example... Ellen'wyn... Even Alistair was willing to risk everything. And now Patrick was here yet again feeling so pathetic for himself, and this time the poor soul left in charge of his well being was Faith instead.

"I'm sorry..." He reiterated once more but this time slightly louder, in the event the words were missed the first time around. He didn't say anymore but with a nod he showed he understood her yet again, his breathing shortly ragged as he tried to contain his stressed emotion. Ever since... Ever since She showed up again, he quickly realized that nothing about himself seemed right anymore. It had been a couple trials ago when a friendly drinking game went all wrong, all because that damned bitch had to show her manipulative face again after dodging her for seasons. Patrick hated Her so much now, he hated Syroa for doing this to him even if it wasn't Her plan. Right now he didn't care what Her plans were, he just wanted to be rid of this insatiable hunger and the monster associated with it.

And then it hit him.

His eyes were closed to help regulate his breathing some but he could feel it. All that anger and resentment, mixed within him to fuel that constant hunger. It all slowly started to just dissipate into nothing more than immaculate thought, as though the looming rain cloud overhead dispersed after it's deluge. What felt like a constant disarray of thoughts which barraged his mentality became more calm, less frantic and wild as the nature of the beast that stirred within him. He almost felt completely himself aside from the fact he still wasn't, just more in control over his impulses compared to before; now that his senses weren't overloaded with the hunger that drove them wild. Yet that craving still lingered... Not as strong as before but still there, subtly buried beneath a renewed sense of clarity as he exhaled one last sigh.

How'd he feel? "I..." He shook his head in disapproval over the whole situation. "I definitely feel more in control. Can't tell you how much I appreciate your help..." It was truthful as he couldn't wish to burden her any further, since he felt she'd already been roped into helping enough as is. He nodded once more at her instruction of breathing, a little relieved to hear that Dominek was still there to help him even at his worst. The older brother had knelt in front of Patrick and somehow, gave a bittersweet smile in seeing his little brother a little more co-operative compared to before.

"You got it Faith, I'm here for you too lil' brother." He reassured the Rharnian with a hand on Pat's shoulder, as he rose to a stand with eyes down on Faith. "Syroa's curse has created some kind of monster out of Patrick, or at least forced him to turn into some kind of twisted malevolent form of his nature. Once a season he's been forced to turn into an unnatural beast at sundown, and at the cost of personal attachment as well it seems. Upon receiving Her curse... he's had to deal with the constant need for flesh and blood, and for a while he found a way to manage since he was a... Uh, 'entertainer' if you recall." At that Dominek seemed slightly uncomfortable, mostly because of where this conversation was about to head.

"The Sessfiend as they're called tend to hunt down those that are considerably close to the cursed, therefore Pat's forced himself to remain isolated to avoid personal attachment for as long as possible. Until Ymiden gave him that." The older brother pointed to the ring on Pat's finger, as the cracked object shimmered a deep if not faint red-orange glow around it's ancient text. "Patrick was one of the few individuals to be Ymiden's champion for some 'artifact game' that went on in Vhalar, I don't know what happened but apparently he lost somehow and was lucky to make it back at all. By that point Ymiden gave him the ring and said there was little else he could do at that point, and from that point on Pat seemed better in control over his curse for the while..."

Until Southguard... It was likely Faith needed to know about that also, which ultimately led Dominek to sigh as he gave her the details of that event. "Patrick had an accident that involved him visiting a place called Southguard, located within Etzos territory if you've never heard of it. One of the medics speculated the ring magic after they helped treat him, so when they removed it and gave it to someone he was there with for safe keeping... he turned and wound up trying to hunt her down. She barely survived the event as the remaining soldiers of that town came up with a solution, and caused the beast to revert mid-transformation by embedding the ring in it's flesh. Ever since then the ring has been cracked, all because the Sessfiend's rage is that powerful."

At that point Dominek looked away as he tried to play it tough, pretend that he wasn't on the verge of tears himself as he vented his frustration. "Thus far he's come nowhere close to lifting the curse, and the longer that ring stays on the more at risk he and everyone around him is. It can only cage the fiend's rage for so long before it finally breaks, and on top of that it's crack has allowed two very real problems. The influence of the curse which is that hunger Patrick is experiencing... and the trace Syroa has on all her Sessfiends it would seem. Just the other night she showed up again, crashed a little drinking game Pat was about to have with a couple of strangers."

"Not to... interrupt if he's still goin..." Patrick murmured as he wiped some of the sweat from his brow. "I just... really need something to eat now. Something meaty and close to raw preferably..." He loathed to admit or even give into it but something substantially close to what he craved would do right about now, as gross as it probably would've been it was practically his only option at the moment. Even though Pat couldn't see it Dominek turned with eyes down on his little brother, an intense look in his eyes as though he seemed rather alarmed by the request.
word count: 1635
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"You don't need to apologise to me, it's fine." Faith said calmly and quietly. He tried to keep up with the breathing and that was good, she focused on that with him and watched him carefully. It was vital that she wasn't interrupted or anything during this task and that meant that he needed to be stable enough, in control enough that she could start. He did, in fairness, seem to be. So, she was able to begin, to start what would be a long and slow process she imagined. What had he done to earn Syroa's wrath, Faith wondered? She had stood and fought against Syroa and Lisirra, and yet they had not seen the need to curse her. Whatever he had done, he must have struck a real blow to her, Faith was sure. In truth, whatever the reason it would make no difference to Faith. He was a mortal in need of help and she could not do anything other than offer it, where she was able.

It was something which Padraig both loved deeply and which drove him to distraction, she knew. Focusing on her husband helped her to keep calm, maintain her sense of balance and equilibrium, as always. Padraig would smile and kiss her forehead and there, written in his amber eyes would be clear questions which he would never ask. Questions about reciprocity, about people making demands and needing help, coming to her because she would help, could help. Because she did what she did. As the man who loved her, he worried about her and what he saw as people taking advantage. She did not see it that way, but she understood why he did and she knew that his love gave her the strength to be able to do what she did. Including this, this focus.

And focus she did. In the moment, it was all she saw, all she experienced and she knew in a particular moment that it had worked.

"Praise and thanks to Moseke for Her gifts, Her wisdom and Her mercy," Faith said softly when Patrick said he was feeling better. She moved to in front of him and knelt next to him. Faith didn't bat an eyelid at kneeling on the ground, she didn't even consider it in truth, simply did it. Kneeling in front of him, she took hold of Patrick's hand and looked at him with a smile. "There is not a need to keep thanking me. It is my pleasure and my duty to help you." So it was, in truth, as she saw it. She kept hold of his hand, her own hand was cool and comforting as she listened to Dominek. "I've come across Sessfiends before," she said, quietly. No more than that, there was no need for it, but it was enough that they both understood that she knew what they were talking about. "Thanks be to Ymiden for that ring, then," she said, and sent a prayer of gratitude to the Immortal of Dawn. Rebirth and forgiveness were both very central to her and Faith smiled in pleasure. "You have met him? I have always admired him, since I learned of him."

Patrick then interjected to Dominek's explanation with a need for food. Faith smiled and nodded. "I'll get you some raw beef. Then, I suggest you go home and get some sleep, then tomorrow morning, we go to the Temple. Maybe, since it was Ymiden who helped you, we go for dawn?" Faith looked at him and smiled and would then do exactly as she said; get him something to eat and then, get herself home.
word count: 618
This PC is dead. See this thread for details.
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'It was fine' or so she would assure him afterwards, yet no matter how honest those words were; Patrick didn't once feel that was the case. Things were not fine! How could they be when he literally threw his own problems onto others, expecting someone to help him when everything grew out of hand at every turn. By all of his own standards Patrick wasn't fine, with this or any of the reliance on others. Yet at the same time he felt so helpless, so completely and utterly powerless against the obstacles against him. How could he hope to carry on in that regard? What good was he if all he did was burden others with his own problems? The thoughts felt heavier now that he felt a sense of clarity in his head, and the rampant impulses he felt before now seemed a less urgent matter to deal with. Yet he felt them and the influence of his inner beast... still. They were deeper in his core and he honestly felt, in truth, that both were becoming more a part of him somehow. And that truly terrified him.

"It's not okay! He remarked in his clearer thoughts as Faith seemed to ease into a chant of the Immortals, remarkably so Patrick recognized the name of Moseke when he heard it. "Praise..." He mumbled softly as he did feel appreciation for Faith and the gift she used, somehow the idealism in Immortals Patrick shared seemed far less considerate than before. He had learned overtime that the Immortals were in a sense much like mortals, just with insanely supernatural powers they could grant while they walked the physical plane of Idalos. To learn that Moseke Herself had blessed Faith, which ultimately didn't surprise him at all, helped him realize that they could do more than just perform miracles. Even Syroa who he hated with a passion influenced mortals in unusual ways, mostly however those ways being considerably the less favorable kind.

And all Patrick did... was just meet her. He often thought back on that night but never that far into it, since what transpired after their meeting led to one of the worst situations of his life. "I have given you the power to deal rage and anger." She had told him just shortly after the bite had been made below his neck. "You were just unlucky to have crossed by path. Now cursed to be my beast, you shall transform every once in a while at night." Dominek watched vigilantly after Patrick had brought up still wanting something to eat, doubtful that his brother could've actually felt so inclined to indulge that lingering appetite. Likely because he loathed being the very idea of being this monster, but at this point in time it became very clear what Patrick was feeling.

"Yeah... Ymiden too..." The Rharnian muttered with his eyes down to his hands as they rested in his lap, yet he didn't bother moving from the sitting position on his knees he was in earlier. He just examined the cracked golden band as the ancient words still glimmered that same red-orange, an index finger and thumb from his other hand used to rotate it around subconsciously. Dominek could see it in his eyes by then, just as Faith started to walk away to get something for him to munch on. Patrick's eyes once more started to gloss over as he looked away from the ring, into the garden he sat within as it was just him alone in that public place.

"Pat..." His older brother immediately went from vigilance to concern, his hands brought to rest over his little brother's shoulders as he knelt down. "Please Pat... Don't think about it like this..." It then dawned on him... that while it wasn't something he was familiar with, the Lightning Knight could've found a way to materialize in front of Patrick. It'd likely be a bad idea considering the amount of energy required of him, but Dominek didn't really care about any of that when it came to helping his little brother. Thus Patrick who had been heavily quiet as he contemplated deep thoughts, suddenly felt the air before him drop a few degrees in temperature rapidly. How was it so cold all of a sudden? At the same time this occurred he caught a brief glimpse of his brother, of Dominek looking into his eyes hard with his finger pointed over Patrick's chest.

It had been so sudden that it quite literally surprised Patrick to reel back a little, the backside of his pants now likely dirtied from the brushing against the dirt. "Ilaren's tits man!" He declared in a state of awe as he took a few deep breathes to calm down, his eyes narrowed as he looked from the vacant space that was once Dominek. Where they fell to was his chest where he felt the most residual cold air, surprised to find that his pendant had been pulled out from within his shirt. Dominek wanted this? Or did he... Want Patrick to think more on this instead? It was easy to forget the trinket rested safely away under his shirt all the time, since it was the only keepsake he had to remember both his mother and brother by. He got the feeling then... that this was Dominek telling him not to give in, to let the residual guilt and loneliness get the better of him. Another private voice told him the same, that he shouldn't be afraid to admit his struggles to others like Faith as well...

He scoffed but deep down he agreed with that sentiment. No matter how isolated he tried to keep himself, he couldn't count on being alone and lifting the curse at the same time. It had already costed him a great deal and while he just wanted to give in... Too much was at stake for him to do just that. "Fek..." He muttered to himself as he proceeded to stand on his feet finally, his hands used to brush the dirt off him as he sighed aloud afterwards. What was he to say? That he just wanted to give up and lose himself to the curse? He'd be lying if he pretended he didn't, after dealing with it for so long. But now for the first time it seemed as though someone, someone truly genuine and capable, could maybe help turn that around for him; and while he hated his problems being unloaded onto others... he currently had little choice at this rate.

Re...lease.... me.... Something deep within him faintly insisted as he glanced at the ring once more, however he did not bother entertaining that thought a second time. At her return the Rharnian provided a faint smile to Faith, the tormented guilt still in his eyes however as he watched her approach.
word count: 1167
"Freedom is everything."


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A Curse That Haunts

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She came back out with the meat and she gave it to him, on a plate. It didn't matter to her how he ate it, if it sated his hunger and that reduced the battle which raged within him, then Faith could only think it was a good thing. He was going through a lot, but equally Faith could see that he was running the risk of falling into a spiral which would be a very bad one for him to fall into. So, she brought the food out and she sat down on the nearest bench. Pulling her knees up to her chin, Faith watched him, and his brother. "I suggest that, in the morning at dawn, as I said, we go to the Temple. It's a beautiful thing, here, the Temple. It's called the Glass Temple because of the incredible windows." They reached to the ceiling, she said and it was a place run by Stan, a Tunawa. "If anyone can help you, he will be able to." She didn't know what form that help would take, Faith said, but she was sure that going there would be a good thing.

"Ymiden. Focus on Ymiden, Patrick. Rebirth and a new dawn. Forgiveness. Maybe for both of you, I'd say, is what you need to focus on." Faith was deeply religious, truly spiritual in her way of being and she knew that many would (and had) called her a fanatic, but that was fine. If that was what she was, then it was. She was herself and, these trials at least, she was exactly who and where she wanted to be.

Sitting there, she spoke to Patric and her voice was low and quiet. "Do you remember our dream? We dreamed together, you and I. I'm able to walk in dreams now, and I understand the truth they have. Do you remember what I was?" Would he? Probably not was the simple truth. Most people didn't remember their dreams and, if they did, they remembered them vaguely. Details were lost. But right now, Patrick was facing what must seem like an impossible task - one so daunting that it would make it easy to give up.

"I was born in Rynmere on the 1st Saun. I'll be twenty arcs old next birthtrial," she said. It might sound like a strange non-sequitor, but it wasn't. "Two breaks after I was born, my parents sold me for three hundred gold nel to a man I pulled out of the rubble in the docks collapse earlier in the season. I'm one of twins and they didn't want two children. So they sold me." The one on the left. She didn't tell him that bit, that was an aspect, a detail, a memory which was so intensely personal that Faith felt like she simply could not share it with anyone other than Padraig.

"He took me on a boat to Athart. I was ten trials old when he branded me." She looked at Patrick and smiled slightly. "When Vri blessed me, I gained a perfect memory of all my life, with thanks to him. I remember being branded, I remember it all." She'd been taken to Athart, she told him and there she had been trained for sixteen and a half arcs. That was all she said, she had been 'trained' and there was no pain in her voice, no accusation, but the training methods in Athart were well known. "I was bought by an undertaker from Rynmere." Unaware at the time that he was taking her back to where she was born, he took her there, Faith explained. She was not allowed out of the morgue except to prepare his food for an arc. Then, on the twentieth of Ymiden in 716 she was allowed out for the first time. Less than two arcs ago. "I went to the local park and took off my shoes. I met a man, a Knight Captain. He told me about the University and I wanted to go there. But they do not allow slaves." Then, she had been bought by a man called Tristan Venora.

Looking at Patrick, Faith seemed completely and utterly calm throughout the whole telling. "He was kinder to me than anyone had ever been, and when I told him that I wanted to go to the University, he got me a tutor so I could learn. Padraig. My husband, now." If she had been calm and not at all emotional when she spoke of the horror that had been her life, Faith positively beamed with delight, pride and love as she spoke her husband's name. "I fell in love. But it was not possible to speak it. To love someone is to give yourself to them, and I could not. Then, his cousin Alistair wrote to him and told him to set me free." She smiled and shrugged slightly, gesturing around. "He asked me if I wanted to be free. I said yes and he freed me. I ran to Padraig's house in the Vhalar snow, no coat or belongings, but I knew where I had to be."

Faith's silver eyes were calm, positive emotion shining from her. "Rebirth. Dawn. Forgiveness. Those lead to the brightness of summer. Miracles happen. The impossible does. Ymiden has given you the chance. I believe you can take it, both of you." Nothing, after all, was impossible. Taking Patrick's hand Faith looked at him with a very serious gaze. "Moseke healed my scars. The brands and the other ones. You saw them in the dream." She smiled, but it was a serious expression. "But the internal ones, those I had to deal with myself or I would have fallen into despair. I will help you if I can. Will you meet me at the Temple tomorrow at dawn and we can ask Ymiden together if he will help you both?"

Self loathing was not the place to start, Faith knew. He had to forgive himself and then allow himself the opportunity to see the dawn. Ymiden had given him the ring for a reason - he just had to realise it.
word count: 1042
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Patrick
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A Curse That Haunts

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To his greatest of surprises Faith did actually come through with that raw meat, a nice slice of it in fact served on a personal plate for Patrick to enjoy. Almost immediately upon the offer he accepted it graciously and then, after he realized that it was indeed raw, grimaced over the fact he'd be consuming it soon. That nasty smell that usually implied such food inedible somehow allured him, and in the most unsettling way he found it easy to take the first bite. While it wasn't fresh off the carcass the meat did ooze and drizzle between his teeth some, and for a moment he felt his stomach lurch in reflex of what he'd just began to do. Patrick couldn't help but gag as he held his plate away briefly, until at last the sensation that followed overcame all other thought.

Hunger.

As much as he didn't want to relish the idea of eating it, the rawness of the meat would be as close as he ever could be to actual flesh... without consumption of another's life no less. Thus while Faith suggested that they visit Ymiden's temple at dawn, Patrick rather vacantly nodded as he proceeded to nibble. Those nibbles soon became eager bites as he felt sensational pleasure course into his skull, and the meet he vigorously chewed on somehow made him a little happier than he anticipated. Was this his way of life now? Was he destined to feast on raw food to coax him from what he naturally craved? It definitely felt wretched and horrible in comparison but truthfully, Patrick didn't feel half as guilty as he would've in the consumption of an actual human being. Thus he proceeded to sit down on the bench with Faith, though at the farthest end away for safety measure.

As rich and potent of a flavor human blood was, this could certainly substitute for whatever unnatural craving he felt. Whether or not it would sit well with his stomach later... that would remain to be seen most surely. "What makes you think," He said between a swallow and another mouthful, "Ymiden wants to help someone like me. Obviously he's got better things to do." Patrick figured with a shrug as he continued to ingest the substance, a little more relaxed in comparison to before now that something relevant to his hunger seemed to fill his belly. Thus Faith proceeded to preach on, at first over how pretty the temple was and how a Tunawa seemed to run it. But then from there Faith took a more personal turn, one that reflected on her very own life's story at best. Normally Patrick wasn't keen to listen to those, as that would involve actually paying attention; and therefore develop intuitive interest in a particular individual.

That was never a good thing however since the last time he did that, one such person nearly became the Sessfiend's dinner; hence why Southguard deemed him quite a hate-able person really. He couldn't blame them after all... he did murder and kill a lot of innocents, all because he turned into something he couldn't control... Suddenly the guilt returned once more and when he looked at the plate, all but several bites remained of that horribly raw meat. For fek's sake. He placed it down next to him and looked somberly away, from both it and from Faith's general area. While Dominek however seemed to remain quiet for the most part, listening well to what all Faith had to say throughout her story. Patrick learned a lot more than he let on in truth, about Faith and how she grew up becoming a slave eventually. Somehow he couldn't recall any specifics, but he did remember at one time seeing her before.

Was it truly a dream? He had many odd dreams since then, and Jesnine herself intervened once to give him a good rest; though that only lasted maybe ten-trials before they returned to normal. Still it was the best sleep he ever had, and definitely what he needed to better cope with everything. If only for back then... Now his dreams were more prominent nightmares, bits and pieces of times he watched himself mercilessly kill others; or even worse helplessly watch horrid events beyond his control repeat. So much had happened over the Arcs that quite honestly, a lot of it was less funny compared to what actually was. Part of Patrick missed that aspect dearly, as he enjoyed nothing but the fun parts of his life. Finally when her story came to an end, Faith made her point quite clear at the end of it all. Something that really got Patrick to thinking now that he listened closely.

"When we were young, Dominek and I were just two boys in the poor streets of Rharne. It was often called the Dust Quarter but we gave it a different name." At his reflective tone Dominek looked to Patrick with wide eyes, clearly surprised that his little brother actually seemed to open up. "Dust Town we called it. Though we never had to worry about slavery like you did Faith, we had plenty of our own problems growing up there. Mother struggled a lot of the times and had two growing boys to feed, therefore when times grew hard she often found herself relying on us more than we did her." Finally he looked down towards his feet which seemed a more better approach than before, since he looked away from her direction before he started to listen or speak. Patrick reached up at the collar of his shirt and removed the pendant he wore, as the forgotten weight of the compass suddenly eased when he held it in his hand.

"This was her's first and then it passed on to Dominek, after we both lost her to a sickness when we were still just kids. We were lucky to have someone there to look after us when it happened, even so we still worked hard to live and survive on our own. We were never the best kids in the city, but eventually Dom joined up with the Lightning Knights and then we both moved into the Earth Quarter. We were determined to build a better lives for ourselves, until...." Dominek's own face had grown from happy to sour at what came next, while Patrick clutched the pendant a little more tightly. "He only joined the knights just to look out for me mostly. As much as he wanted to believe he made a difference, he only did it just so he could protect me. Once that was gone everything just... fell to shit from there."

"He's definitely struggled on his own from time to time, though he's had a little help along the way." Dominek admitted with his arms crossed and the look still bittersweet on his face. Patrick on the other hand finally looked to Faith as he seemed more accepting, more willing to believe that maybe truth existed in what she told him.

"I really can't expect forgiveness in myself, not after all that's happened because of me. Sessfiend or not there is blood on my hands, and while I doubt salvation really exists for me... I want to try for my brother. One way or another I want to do this, if not for me then certainly for him." He admitted with a sigh as he already knew he'd be crabby, since Patrick was never one who liked to rise with the sun usually. "I'll meet you there at this Glass Temple, I may not be the best sort to try this Immortal stuff; but I won't that stop me from trying at least. Both you and Dominek both deserve that much, after all the both of you have been through." However whether that would truly be enough for his salvation, that remained beyond Patrick to say the least. "...And Faith... Somehow in this moment where he felt sincerely honest, at his most vulnerable no less, Patrick felt it was more than he could take.

"Thank you... For everything you've done; and anything you continue to do to save us." Yes. Us. Dominek deserved it more than he did surely, but if the both of them could be saved somehow; then Patrick would truly consider himself a blessed individual. No Immortal's blessing or curse could compare to that, and thus far even Dominek couldn't help but smile a little wider at the sentiment Patrick shared with Faith. While it might've been obvious or not to Faith, the older brother certainly knew this was progress in regards to Patrick trusting others once more.
word count: 1477
"Freedom is everything."


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Doran Cooney
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A Curse That Haunts

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Patrick Barnell
Knowledges
* Discipline: Resisting The Curse's Influence
* Discipline: Fighting Powerful Impulses
* Strength: Holding One's Self At Bay
* Meditation: Regulating Breath Exercises
* Meditation: Finding That Sense of Clarity
* Psychology: Feeling Pitiful Over Yourself
* Discipline: Maintaining A Sense of 'Control'
* Resistance: Eating Meat While Its Raw
* Rhetoric: The Antics of Immortals
* Etiquette: Providing Appreciation Even Before It's Due

* Faith: Is A Cook Also
* Faith: Happy To Help
* Faith: Marked By Moseke
* Faith: Determined To Help
* Faith: Heavily Believes in Immortals
* Moseke's Power: Calming Whispers
* Flavor: The Taste of Raw Meat
* Personal: The Dream With Faith
* Faith: Her Personal History
* Faith: Marked By Vri
* Faith: Was a Slave, Later Freed By Choice
* Personal: Miracles Can Happen?
* Faith: Has Gained Your Respect
* Personal: Meeting With Faith

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Injuries: N/A
Renown: N/A

Points 15
Faith Augustin
Knowledges
Discipline: Not showing fear
Discipline: Sharing your story
Meditation: Shared breathing techniques
Meditation: Trying to keep calm to keep someone else calm.
Meditation: Focus on a positive
Moseke Mark: Sevrath: Calming Minds - useful when someone is very agitated
Moseke Mark: Sevrath: Calming Minds - need physical contact

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Injuries: N/A
Renown: N/A

Points 15
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History sharing! Faith's use of personal allegory to help emphasize where her stance in on believing in redemption was well done and a smart tool to employ! Patrick's same use for the complete opposite stance was also really appropriate, and the thread as a whole is a good representation of how drastically different people's lives are and what specific things go into shaping their belief systems. Patrick eating raw meat was pretty ucky, no thank you.
Please edit your grade request, thank you!
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