IC Time: May5th VERY early Morning
Location: St. Anne's Church
Synopsis: Helena goes to find sanctuary while fighting her change…
Submitted by: Helena
Church never was a place that Helena turned to in times of stress. Her studies, her work, the running, science, logic, rational. She had many avenues for it. Even as a kid here she was the one who would debate with the teaches in Sunday school evolutionary theory, science and such, now returned from medical school well her mind is not any more focused on faith than it was before. Yet in the wee hours of the morning she finds herself here, hesitantly pushing open a door and nearly stumbling as it gives way easier than she remembered. Once in she just stands there looking up the aisle to the alter. There are a few hesitant steps forward before she stops behind the last pew, her hands resting on the back, her fingers tensing around the edge. There is a little self depricating laugh, "Helena what are you doing here?" She mutters to herself
In the wee hours of the morning, Helena would probably expect to find the church deserted. And in fact, normally, it would be… Aside from the occasions when Father LaRoe falls asleep over his braille Bible in his office. It's the slight noise of Helena's stumbling entrance that startles him out of sleep. After a few minutes, he appears at the front of the church, at a door that opens behind the podium. He stands there for a moment, sleepy-faced and without the dark glasses that usually camoflage his distant gaze. For a moment he is silent in the darkness of the doorway, confused and listening for another sign that he hadn't dreamed the noises he heard.
Helena is about to turn around when she hears the door open to see the new priest. Not one she remembers from her youth of forced attendence. Not realizing he is blind she flinches at being caught here, "Sorry Si..Father. I think I took a wrong turn." She calls out in a strained voice as she takes a couple more steps towards the exit, the footsteps stumbling, wanting to run out but part of her wanting to stay as well.
Vincent is still confused, but responds to the sound of distress in her voice. He swipes a hand over his face, attempting to straighten himself at least a little, even as he moves toward the stairs of the dais. "Wait…" It turns out to be a mistake to try doing too many things at once, as he stumbles a bit on the first stair. Luckily, he catches himself, but as he regains his footing on the bottom stair, he hesitates, still slightly disoriented from the near fall and distracted by the stumbling sound of her footsteps. "Maybe I can help you?" he offers, rather than trying to catch up.
She makes it to the door when she hears him stumble and Helena turns toward him, her footsteps quick though he has recovered himself before she gets to him. "Are you alright?" She asks from a few feet away. Her approach to him smoother than her near exit. She gives a short laugh at his question, "I doubt it…" She says with a harsh tone. Her gaze shifts up to the dais, the cross and other images there and she flinches as if they were judging her. "I am told there is nothing that can help me.."
Vincent laughs faintly, with the slightest self-derisive tone as he says, "Oh, I'm fine. I've made worse errors than misjudging the stairs in my time. No harm done…" His laugh dies, however, at her words. In spite of his endless good nature, nothing can prevent the worry that fills his expression, though he doesn't know the woman. "Young lady…I don't know what your situation is, but you're obviously still alive. And as long as we live, there is hope. Never forget that." Carefully, he steps down the last step to the church proper, one hand outstretched as he takes a few steps. Eventually, his fingers brush the edge of the dias, giving him a point of reference to know where he is. Secure in the knowledge that he won't be walking into any walls, he turns toward Helena's voice, with a concerned little smile. "If you can forgive my rumpled state, perhaps we could talk about it?" he suggests, quietly.
"I want to believe that…maybe I will yet find an answer…some cure." Helena says, her voice sounding almost sorrowful. As he stretches out his hand she backs up a step or two rather quickly. She gives him a curious look at his 'feeling around' before she finally looks directly at his face and notices the distant gaze. This actually helps her relax a bit. He can't see the state of her clothes, the sweat on her brow, the brightness to her eyes. She just looks at him in silence for a few moments more before she sighs, "Well…I can try."
Vincent frowns faintly at her words, gathering that she must have some sort of sickness. "Well, it can't hurt to try," he replies, gently. "Why don't we sit?" he suggests, beckoning her toward him. "It's a bit more comfortable in my office. And the light switch there would be a bit more convenient," he admits, with another worried little smile. "Do you need anything? We have water and some snacks in the kitchen…" He's still a bit flustered, but at least he's making an effort. That's something.
"Here is fine, I don't mind the dark so much." Helena responds as she looks around the room, her breathing increasing for a moment. Words are mouthed, barely heard more than the movement of her toungue against her teeth. She takes a deep breath and settles into a pew two seats back. "I…could be contagious, we probably shouldn't get too close." She finally says with a strain in her voice. A lie to a priest, but well…not quite a lie. She could infect others if she chose to, like she was.
Vincent tilts his head a little, uncertainly. He hesitates a moment, but then nods slightly. "If it makes you comfortable, that's fine. Dark or light, it's the same to me…" He settles into the front pew, turning sideways in the seat in order to at least be almost facing her. "I'll take my chances with catching it, whatever 'it' is," he comments, with a faint smile. He is silent for a moment, then comments, "Why don't you start at the beginning. What's weighing on you?"
Helena perches on the edge of her seat as she sits on the pew, fingers drumming a rythm on the pew in front of her. Her breathing is mostly settled for the moment, though the final question just makes it pick up again. "I have…" She starts before her jaw tightens around the words, warnings ring in her ears. With the deities of old watching her, old tales touch to her mind. This is the last place a demon should seek help. She growls almost before pushing herself up from the seat and running back down the aisle, pushing herself out the door quickly and disapearing into the early morning dark.
