he blinks quizzically as her head comes to rest into him, a little surprised by the vulnerability behind the gesture. but he thinks in some way, maybe... this is something she might need on some level, too.
he lightly rests his hand atop her head when she lingers, that expression at his face softening to something a little more sincere at those muffled words. ]
I suppose there are worse things to be than the worst priest, so... I'll take it.
[ ...it'll be alright. maybe she isn't alright now - but she will be. ]
[ Her mark is finally silent and still and has returned to the back of her neck as if it had never moved at all. Monts draws herself back and looks at the priest with a nod a small smile. ]
Yeah. I think that's enough carnival for us.
[ Something about how he addresses her hurt without talking about his just somehow pains her even more. But they've both had enough. It's time to go home. ]
[ he's nodding back at her in return; the carnival has long outlived its novelty, and Abel for one can't say he is going to miss this place in the least. the uncomfortable feeling stirred up by reawakened ghosts and seeing Monts' dissolution into a creature that barely resembled her definitely isn't one of his favorite life experiences, he has to say.
but life goes on; it always does. just like so many other things, this would be one more unpleasant memory to tuck away with the rest. and... if he has to think on it at all, he will try and be grateful for the chance to see into the troubled heart of his friend to a depths he doubts she would've exposed, otherwise. how many people know about the horrors she's endured...? he can tell she's struggled to deal with it, haunted by the memories even still.
...he eyes her a little as they leave the house of mirrors behind them. Abel isn't just finding the urge to leave the carnival behind; he is quite sick of Fogtown in whole, to be frank. maybe it's time to get the hell out of dodge. ]
[ She only goes to Fogtown voluntarily whenever there's some sort of pull or if she has the urge to see her friends again. Being able to encounter Father Abel was just happenstance, to be honest.
The resulting circumstances were... Not pleasant. Parts were fun, but then what followed was inner pain set free and they saw sides of each other that weren't meant to be set on the table.
But here they are now. Still standing, still alive, and always troubled.
Monts pats Abel on the shoulder. ]
Let's see if you can visit me next time. The Midnight Grind is much better than this place.
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he blinks quizzically as her head comes to rest into him, a little surprised by the vulnerability behind the gesture. but he thinks in some way, maybe... this is something she might need on some level, too.
he lightly rests his hand atop her head when she lingers, that expression at his face softening to something a little more sincere at those muffled words. ]
I suppose there are worse things to be than the worst priest, so... I'll take it.
[ ...it'll be alright. maybe she isn't alright now - but she will be. ]
...Let me get you out of here, alright?
no subject
Yeah. I think that's enough carnival for us.
[ Something about how he addresses her hurt without talking about his just somehow pains her even more. But they've both had enough. It's time to go home. ]
no subject
but life goes on; it always does. just like so many other things, this would be one more unpleasant memory to tuck away with the rest. and... if he has to think on it at all, he will try and be grateful for the chance to see into the troubled heart of his friend to a depths he doubts she would've exposed, otherwise. how many people know about the horrors she's endured...? he can tell she's struggled to deal with it, haunted by the memories even still.
...he eyes her a little as they leave the house of mirrors behind them. Abel isn't just finding the urge to leave the carnival behind; he is quite sick of Fogtown in whole, to be frank. maybe it's time to get the hell out of dodge. ]
Will you go home, Miss Monts...?
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[ She only goes to Fogtown voluntarily whenever there's some sort of pull or if she has the urge to see her friends again. Being able to encounter Father Abel was just happenstance, to be honest.
The resulting circumstances were... Not pleasant. Parts were fun, but then what followed was inner pain set free and they saw sides of each other that weren't meant to be set on the table.
But here they are now. Still standing, still alive, and always troubled.
Monts pats Abel on the shoulder. ]
Let's see if you can visit me next time. The Midnight Grind is much better than this place.