It is about 55F(12C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At Birch and Sidney

“I think it will be fine, Celestine. Just no fighting in the center,” Tamar murmurs back to Celestine then glances around at the others. Nervous still, she gestures to the spread laid out. “I suppose we should get started then. Please help yourself to drinks or snacks, and I have printed out the verses we will look at if you did not bring your own Bible. We can sit down at the armchairs if people like?” Her gaze lingers on the door for a little after that and she pulls out her phone to check something before tucking it away again.

Nodding to Tamar, Ekaterina plucks a sheet from the pile, scanning it as she makes her way over to the armchairs.

Reaching out with trembling fingers, Celestine tucks one of the Bible verses beneath her arm, before trying to lift a cup of steaming cocoa into her free hand. Guided by each forward ‘THUNK’ of her cane… Celestine hobbles over to deposit her into the nearest seat. Very… slooooowly. So as to not spill her drink from her trembling fingers.

Eric picks up a page, before holding Tessa’s chair for her. Then he turns to Celestine, offering her help being seated too if she desires it. Once she too is seated, he takes his place, settling into the armchair with a grunt.

Tamar look

Tessa tucks into an armchair, a foot under her, making herself comfortable. There’s a faint smile as she pops a bite of her bread into her mouth, saying, “As much as people think low of me, I’m happy to rescue anyone but Courtiers from the mist. Unless it’s my … two friends in the court.”

Leaning gratefully into Eric’s assistance, Celestine’s left leg seems to jerk and shudder awkwardly as she lowers herself into the cushioned chair, one hair foregoing the aid of her cane in favor of stabilizing her mug of mocha before she finally collapses into a seated position. Sipping at her coffee with both hands.

Tamar settles herself down into one of the armchairs, adjusting her own sword at her hip for comfort. She pulls out a little Bible of her own from her bag. The pages are marked off with little tags and folded pieces of paper as bookmarks. She opens it, staring down at the words and worrying the corner of her lip between her teeth before she manages to get herself rolling. “We started these meetings as a way for the faithful to come together and form a community. To support one another and such things,” the angelborn says, glancing up at the others and scanning each of their faces in turn. “This time I chose the topic of forgiveness. Because… well, because I think it is something that I do not really understand and I am not very good at. Maybe it is a bit selfish, but I wanted to talk to other people about it. Especially… especially in a city like this one.”

Tessa gives a quiet nod to Tamar as she listens, maybe encouraging, maybe not. “Understandable,” she murmurs, hand falling to the armrest of Eric’s seat instead.

Eric listens to Tamar, though some of his focus remains on devouring the slice of bread held protectively close in one hand. It’s gone in two mouthfuls, and he washes it down with a swig of coffee before considering the remaining food with a covetous eye, quickly turned away.

Taking a sip from her coffee, Ekaterina adjusts her rifle so it sits against the chair itself, the device hanging from its strap loosely.

As Tamar begins to speak, she gives her a thumbs up, listening attentively, coffee mug in one hand page of scripture resting on a knee.

“I love that this is what you chose, Tamar.” Celestine murmurs sweetly, resting her cup momentarily — albeit awkwardly, against one of her thighs as she smooths her verse out flat over the other. Leaning in, Celestine’s eyes scan the page in solemn silence, head falling slightly askew.

Tamar shifts uneasily in her seat, but the nods and thumbs up and words seem to bolster her just a little. “When I was taught about God and the Bible, I was taught that things like forgiveness… it only applied to humans… like how people like me cannot take communion. Because our blood is… not-human,” She speaks slowly, clearly trying to be very careful with her words in mixed company. There is a small glance at Celestine before she drops her gaze back down to the book in her lap. “The Lord’s prayer is one of the first things I learned. And it says that we should forgive others because God will forgive us. But… are there things that are unforgivable? Are there people who are unforgivable? What does forgiving everything and everyone even look like?”

As Tamar speaks, Ekaterina listens. She doesn’t say anything, though there’s a tightening of the jaw that suggests that she believes that not all things can be forgiven.

Tessa takes another slow sip of her drink, eyes drifting over Tamar, a slight crease between her brows but she doesn’t speak whatever thoughts aloud, she just holds them.

Eric’s gaze sharpens on Tamar, and something close to a wince flickers across his face. Almost reflexively, he reaches out to take Tessa’s hand, the other drumming a nervous tattoo on his mug with idle fingers. The armchair creaks a little as he shifts his bulk. The coffee is lifted for another sip, hiding his face for a moment.

Tessa brushes her thumb over Eric’s hand, that concerned, thoughtful expression settling on him instead. She leans to kiss his shoulder, a squeeze of his hand, then she settles in her seat properly, though leaning a bit more toward his.

“It means offering second chances.” Celestine offers, glancing over the sheet in her hands. “Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all.” She recites, directly from the words laid out before her. “All people deserve an opportunity to do better. But I think that line is drawn when their actions will cause irreparable harm to the people around them. ‘Do what is honorable’ Would mean not to act out of vengeance, or hatred. But out of love.”

“People is the operative word, da.” Ekaterina adds to Celestine’s point. “Once it is established that their actions are not going to change, or the -thing- you are seeking to question is not capable of appreciating the forgiveness offered, or the consideration given, then it becomes a matter of shoving it away. As with the Legion. They look like people, but they are not.”

Pointedly, the Russian mentions in an aside to Tessa, “This is not pointed at you and your connections. You simply did not know that the legion were literal demons wishing abolition of earth’s ways in exchange for a literal Hell on earth as the demons have destroyed their own world.”

Tessa drawls, slowly, “I have been connected to literally one member of the sixty third, and he has not been around for a long while. I’m not an agent of theirs. As I remind people on a weekly basis.”

Eric raises a hand, asking Tamar, “What of those who kill in the throes of madness, when they are not themselves?” The question is idle, but his gaze is anything but. “I’ve heard, mixed conclusions on that front.”

Tamar seems to be more sensitive than most to the tensions that build in the silence after her questions, a furtive glance shot towards the door back out onto the road as if escape might just be an option if the silence gets too much to bear. Thankfully, Celestine is the one to break it and the angelborn’s attention settles on her while she listens. “Offering second chances,” she echoes with a small nod, worrying the corner of her lip. Clearly this is deep stuff that she is trying to unravel, at least for her. When Ekaterina speaks, she continues to listen to the other woman and ponders. “Is forgiveness the same as turning the other cheek?” she asks. “Like… it says here in Matthew 18 that we should forgive seventy-seven times. But is that for people who want forgiveness? Or does it include those in the Legion who are not seeking forgiveness at all?” She blinks at Eric’s question, biting her lip again as it trying to choke back some ingrained retort that she had ready on quickdraw to shoot out. Her jaw tenses while she thinks. “Those who kill in madness…” She stalls, her face twisting into a confused frown. “You mean the wolves?”

“I think anyone deserves forgiveness, if they truly seek it. That is the key part,” Tessa murmurs, squeezing his hand in hers again. “If a wolf slips their chains, like King did that one time, ending up in his own trap, I don’t blame them for things they literally have no control over. Same with Vamps who go hungry, chipped folks, whatever.”

Eric keeps his face carefully blank, betrayed only by the twitch of his brows and the subtle darting of his gaze away from meeting Tamar’s directly. “Yeah, wolves. Like, if you didn’t want to be one and you do something in madness before you learn how to prevent it, are you already beyond forgiveness? Because of, your blood and, you know.” He gestures with his mug, coffee slopping at the edge but not going over. “Just a thought to puzzle on,” he concludes hastily. “Not a big deal.”

Nodding along to Tamar’s conclusions, Celestine knits her fingers together around the grasp of her coffee mug, leaning forward to direct more of her attention to Tamar. It is clear… even to the casual observer, that Celestine knows what this Bible study is for. It is not a lecture, but an open discussion of philosophy. “The difference is made in an individual’s intent.” Celestine explains, dipping her head softly to sip at her cocoa. “The sixty-third intend to destroy the world. This is — by definition, causing irreparable harm to millions of people. This means that it is honorable, to fight against them. Because when you are protecting people, you are fighting out of love. Of honor. Not with the intent to inflict pain and suffering.” Celestine trails off, glancing aside to Eric. “…As for the wolves, it depends on their actions. There are those who give in to the lunacy willingly, and let themselves run rampant. Sometimes these will need to be stopped, so they cannot kill other people. But those who make efforts to chain themselves, or make efforts to distance themselves from society — do not possess the -intent- to cause irreparable harm. Me? I would extend to these a helping hand.”

It’s as though Ekaterina were biting off her answer, the words escaping unbidden, though still meaningful for all of that. “It means that those purest can forgive even those who do not seek it– It would encourage forgiving even that. It is an ideal that is not always possible, though it is a directive that wishes that we do not hate, but act, and appreciate, like in the werewolf issue…”

There’s a pause, Ekaterina’s brow lowering as she finds the words, jaw working as she considers Eric and Tessa, and the latter’s word, the former’s question. Huge for Ekaterina, the Russian supposes, “Murder is still murder. A wolf is always, without fail considered by every metric, both natural and supernatural to be a murderer at the point of shifting. This is not supposition. It is emphatic fact. But under the Lunacy, they do not have the self control to know better. And so though we must judge that action– we must forgive and try to find another way. Not hate. Not unending acceptance, but forgiveness of the act as we punish it truly, justly and without bias.”

Tamar perches an elbow onto the arm of her seat, turning her head slightly so that she can rest her chin against the heel of her upturned hand. She clearly did not organize this meeting with any of her own answers or intentions to preach, honest in her initial exposition that she has come to try and listen to what other people have to say on the topic. She is trying to navigate her way between what she was taught and the realities of the world she now finds herself living in. “It seems that… people are saying that forgiveness should be given when it is asked for? If the person does not seek forgiveness then should be punish them for their bad deeds? Is punishment…” she hesitates, her mind drifting for a moment as her shoulders tense before continuing. “Is punishment a form of forgiveness?”

Ekaterina says “Punishment should be divorced from forgiveness. Punishment is the resolution, not the act.“

“I don’t necessarily believe it is our job as mortals to punish people,” Tessa murmurs. “If I did, I would’ve had the ticking timebomb who tried to kill my boyfriend strung up and…” she trails off, swallowing, pushing down the rage that was starting to boil up. Her chest rises with a deep, held breath, then she lets it out slowly. “You do not need to be punished, and I think punishing people for their nature leads to a vicious cycle. I am a vindictive bitch by nature, but I also do what’s right. Plenty think me being in the Conclave make me unforgiveable, worthless, a shitty… sorry, a bad person.” She lifts her shoulder, eyes meeting Tamar’s, as she says, simply, “No one is all bad or all good. If they sell you that, they’re lying.”

Eric says “in romans 12-19 it seems to say that punishment should not be taken at all, and left only to God. But for some, punishment is a step on the path to forgiveness, on both sides. Forgiving oneself, and being forgiven“

Eric says “it’s a bit like Tess says, I think. It can’t all be one or the other, in this, too. You can’t just do nothing, because then you wouldn’t fight for those you love. But you can’t do everything.“

“Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay,’ says the Lord.” Celestine recites in response to Eric’s prompting, the twiin moons of her luminous stare rising upon some unseen horizon to meet Tamar’s eyes. “…Punishment is not ours to inflict, as Tessa and Ekaterina say. Punishment is the enforcement of vengeance. Pain. Suffering. These are not the motivations to be held in the hearts of the holy.” Celestine smiles… resting her lips upon the rim of her cup. “This means, Tamar. That even for those who have killed… they can be forgiven. So long as one can determine that they regret their actions, and intend to do better.”

Eric glances sidelong to Celestine, brow rising. He squeezes Tessa’s hand hard, before catching himself and relaxing his grip a fraction. “What if they need to be punished, to feel punished, to forgive themselves and move forward,” he blithely asks Celestine, catching her gaze. “Can forgiveness be earned with, nothing?”

Tessa mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “Funny the Conclavian bitch is the one who went out to rescue while the Orderites who put her down stayed home yesterday.” With that, she stuffs more bread in her mouth.

Tamar scans the words on the page in her Bible, her expression perplexed. When Tessa mentions the Conclave and her connections with it, the angelborn’s gaze lifts to meet hers. Now it is her turn as she frowns a little, jaw tensing. She breathes slowly, eventually averting her gaze and letting it slide over to Celestine and listening silently. At the last bit of what the woman says, the girl shifts in her seat and her expression turns thoughtful. She seems to be struggling to find the right words to express her thoughts and when Eric jumps in with that her expression changes somewhat, softening a little in understanding. “Yes, can forgiveness really happen without atonement?”

That question gives Ekaterina pause. She opens her mouth a couple of times, closing it as what ever words she found to articulate her thoughts prove themselves still born in concept before ever emerging.

Eventually, taking another sip from her drink, the Russian shrugs, the supposition dredged from within, though still ruff. “Atonement is internal from the one who has created the need to seek forgiveness, da. It is a state of mind, and if there is inability to find it to forgive yourself– To ask others to forgive, then there is no turning of the other cheek. There is wallowing in your own sin. You must desire the change so that others may offer you the olive branch.”

“I do not think that atonement is best inflicted with pain.” Celestine explains, swirling her cocoa around in her cup before taking another sip. “Atonement is the act of proving your loyalty to your changing convictions. It is the act of saying; ‘This is how I have harmed the world, and how I will choose to do better’. Whipping, self-mutilation… many of these things are practiced by people who tell to themselves that they are monsters. But they do not teach you, to do better.” Celestine trails off, turning to meet Eric’s eyes instead. “There are many types of atonement. But no one — and I mean NO ONE. Learns how to love through pain. Atonement, for me, is turning to help others. Contribute to your community. Commit yourself to helping others. This is how you prove that you have grown past your evil ways, and furthermore — how you teach someone who has sinned the value of virtue.”

Tessa nods faintly at Celestine, murmuring, softly, “It’s… self-harm, how we teach people to treat themselves when they fall short. My goal is not perfection, none of us will ever achieve that. My goal is to stay on the side of helping more than I hurt others, and making it right when I harm those who care about their own harm inflicted.” She taps her nails on Eric’s hand, thinking, before she adds, “I’ve spent the last two days dealing with being in the muck. Loving someone has hurt me deeply, someone who is not a great person, morally, but who tries to do good, to be better. Them being punished has not helped. If they chose to hate themself, that would not help either.”

Eric jerks his gaze away from Celestine’s after but a handful of breaths, settling back into his chair with a wince. He grips Tessa’s hand firmly in his own, while the other lifts his coffee to conceal his face behind a veil of steam, hand shaking a touch as he sips. There’s no further words from him, the man pursing his lips and falling completely still.

Tamar is caught on Celestine’s words, her frown growing but it is one of perplexity rather than being upset. “But… is pain not love? Discipline…” Her words trail off as her thoughts tangle and she slides a hand up into her hair to comb fingers through it and draw it back from her face. It looks like she is more confused than when this started, but perhaps things have to get worse before they get better. “It seems maybe we have to forgive ourself first before we can be ready to forgive others?” she glances from face to face. “Or… do we leave it up to God to forgive us?”

“At the end, it doesn’t matter what anyone in this room, this town, this world, thinks of you, Tamar,” Tessa tells the woman, gaze a little too knowing, perhaps a touch unsettling. “It’s easy to call you a bad person for what you’ve done, to call anyone here bad people. The evil is in the framing, and all that, and ignoring who people are now because of something they did in the past, something that eats them up inside, that does nothing but fuels pride, a condescending need to be better than others. And, while that makes some people happy, Courtiers,” she can’t help but add, the bitch, “It is not how one finds peace. And, that is the goal, when we face judgement.”

“All of the above.” Celestine replies evenly to Tamar, turning her eyes away from Eric to face the angelborn with a warm, affectionate smile. “God has already forgiven you, Tamar. All that is left is to learn how to forgive yourself, and how to forgive others. Atonement is fine. But doing it because you want to inflict pain teaches you only hatred. You need to learn how to mold your actions around your love for others. Only then, when you can reach out and warm their hearts, improve their lives, and stop hating and hurting yourself… will you truly understand.”

Tamar blinks at Tessa and Celestine when they both call her out by name, looking for a moment like she’s been placed in front of a firing squad and isn’t sure how she got there. “I.. I mean.. forgiveness in /general/,” the angelborn says quickly back towards the two other woman, gesturing a vague circle with her free hand as if this will magically ward off whatever is happening now.

“This does apply to everyone.” Celestine explains the discomfort away with a shrug, leaning back into her seat as she savors the taste of her coffee. “Jesus died for our sins, oui? We were forgiven from the moment we took our first steps onto this earth. What is important…” Celestine sets her mug aside, lifting the Bible verse in one hand, and smacking it with the back of her knuckles. “Is that we live a good, charitable, compassionate life. The Bible serves as a good example, if you know how to read it in the right ways. It is up to each of us, individually, to forgive ourselves for our injustices. Forgive our neighbors, for theirs. And work together to build a brighter and happier world.”

“Celestine is good at this.” Ekaterina raises her mug to Celestine in a toast, suggesting to Tamar. “You think I am wise, forget this, da. Listen to her instead. She is able to articulate her words far better. Is good moral compass.”

There’s a long moment where it seems like Tessa will keep pushing on that nerve, that sore spot of Tamar’s, but instead, she leans back, and soft, almost caring, she says, “What you need to do is work on finding the ‘you’ that deserves forgiveness. We all do, really.” Her eyes drift over to Eric, and she brushes her thumb over his knuckle, one way, then the other.

Eric leans into Tessa without hesitation, without even really glancing over, drawn to her like its the most natural and simple thing in the world. The sharp arc of his brow eases a little, a fleeting smile offered to Tessa before his gaze returns to Tamar. “I get it,” he tells her simply, that’s all, nothing more.

“I think…” Tamar says hesitantly, nodding at the others as she looks at them all then back down at the book in her lap. She’s fidgeting with the corner of the page now, dog-earing it then unfolding it just to fold it again. “Maybe we should call it a day here? There is a lot to think about after what everyone said.”

Nodding in agreement, Celestine turns. Leaning over to lay a gentle hand on Eric’s shoulder… before feeling around for her cane, and wresting it beneath herself. Driving herself unsteadily to her feet. “…Mine well was no more real than a rabbit of Ra.” She murmurs beneath her breath, bowing her head towards Tamar. “Thank you… for hosting this event. I have come to support you, but I find it to be far more productive than I was expecting. This was nice.”

Eric starts to rise, but abruptly pausing he asks Tamar, “Can I keep this?” A slight gesture fans the paper in his hand out, another glance stolen at the words before he folds it away, and assists Celestine in her rise.