Simon laughed a little at Penny's ironic comments. "Two women, one body. Heaven help me."

Penny then went into some suggestions for half truths they might tell. After a moment he snapped his fingers, "Wendigo hunters. That is the Native American equivalent. In order to battle the demon inside the person a Wendigo hunter enters a 'sleepless trance' one that shields their minds from its influence. This is actually very close to the truth, skirting the facts need be skirted, and gives Lily peace of mind."

He looked to Castiel, "Can we get away with this?"

http://www.unexplainable.net/s...and-jack-fiddler.php

ooc; Wow, that's really interesting stuff!

Cas listens to the exchange silently, until now, his face sober as he thinks on the situation. That may well work for the time being though I'm sure it is a temporary solution at best. To be honest the only one who can fix this situation is her father. It was he who bound her angelic half and he who could reason with it, perhaps even rejoin it. You can try to tell Lily but her nephilim side is always listening and as soon as she gets suspicious she will take control and Lily will not be able to hear a word you say. What's worse, the nephilim may start to consider you an enemy, she is desperate to keep her identity secret. Summoning her father is risky as he has his own enemies he flees, but it would work. You would have to find her mother though, she's the only one he will come to, or Lily of course but then her Nephilim side would grow suspicious if you involved Lily in any of this.

Simon nodded, "For now I will take a temporary solution. When/if we find Lily's mother we can work this all out. In the mien time we have work in the past."

He sensed something was off in Penny still. "Penny, you seem to still need to discuss something. If you wish, now is the best time, while we can work out what needs working out before we go into the past. I fear once there we shall be limited in our conversations."

'Wendigo hunter?' Penny repeated, intrigued. It sounded like a specialist form of hunter, like Doctor van Helsing and other dedicated vampire hunters of Europe. The Americas had an extensive supernatural menagerie and hunting traditions all of its own, which she would have to learn if she was to stay and work here. She clicked her fingers. 'And didn't Lily slay a wendigo recently? Yes, that's a very plausible story. It should give Lily peace of mind for the time being.' Penny was relieved; that should keep the matter of Lily on hold until after the Belial affair was dealt with.

She was a bit surprised at Simon's query; though she wanted to bury the hatchet with him, actually being at that point filled her with trepidation. 'Uh, yes, of course, I probably should... Castiel, would you like to stay? Or shall we meet up with you in 1863?' She found reassurance and confidence in the angel's good and gentle nature, perhaps enough to settle things with Father Simon.

I will stay if you need me Penny, otherwise I will meet you there. He gives you a questioning look.

Penny nodded to Castiel 'Please stay, then.' She looked around the chapel for some moments, from Castiel to Simon, to Jesus and Mary, to the walls and ceiling, collecting and ordering her thoughts. She really didn't want to have it out again, but if they could resolve their dispute, they shouldn't have to. 'I think I wrote you that note,' she began quietly, 'Because I wanted you to stop me.'

Simon was confused. "I do not understand. I did not get the note until after you left."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:59, Thu 24 Sept 2015.

OOC: Joint post between Penny, Simon, and briefly Castiel, with some responses interleaved.


Penny sat herself on a pew to relax her posture. 'You excused yourself so quickly after that breakfast. I went looking for you, but you'd already left with Mr Browne. I had no choice but to leave a note under your door, hoping you might return in time to find it, or else deal with my suspicions.'

'At the time, I still suspected Miss Green of being an enemy agent, for her mesmeric powers. I suspected the timing of her spell, that Kate would be sent into a trap. So I resolved to accompany her. Of course, I could say nothing while she was present, and had to hide my own thoughts most thoroughly to conceal them from Miss Green's mind. To act on instinct is the only way. As it was, she was not the spy, but rather our demon infiltrators, but there was a trap prepared for Kate nonetheless.'

'And, yes, I confess, to Castiel here, that I desperately wanted to see the future as well. I cannot deny that. And it was reckless; as much as I feel myself to be a level-headed person, recklessness has long been a fault of mine. My motives may be mixed, good and bad, selfish and unselfish. I feel that is quite natural. I am a woman born ahead of my time, the future draws me to it, I feel. With us soon returning to the time of my birth, that may even be the case.'

'So, you see, the contents of my note were genuine and honest. If I did not make it back, I wished my wealth in America to go your charity. I trusted you. But you refused it, sent it back, postmarked barely a day later. All that, hurled back in my teeth across the century. I felt so very betrayed.' Penny revealed, her voice tight with emotion and hands clasped.

'No, I should not have tried to strike you, at least not with a fist. I sincerely apologise for that. The future is a very daring time. And, well, men's clothing has an effect on one.'

That was it. She felt good to get it off her chest. She'd told the full truth, before an angel no less. She hoped Simon could understand, and reveal the source of his own anger, to resolve their dispute. Perhaps it had just been simple misunderstandings and emotions, brewing up in a witch's cauldron into something terrible. 'That is it. Please, tell me your account. Let us clear this up.'



Simon thought for a very long time. The most difficult part was making sure he did not say something that would reignite the turmoil. He broached the subject as tenderly as he knew how. "Have you ever played Dominoes, Penny? Not the card game, the game where you line up the tiles standing and then tip last in line so that it knocks all the others over and eventually they form a pattern?"


'Yes, as a child.' Penny answered on the question of dominoes, wondering where this odd topic was leading.


He nodded, "I am sure you have, The Detective showed it to me to help me visualize patterns being revealed. Keep that image in mind, please."

He went on, adding hand motions as appropriate. "Ancient Hebrews believed history was circular, that it repeated itself over and over without end. Then Christ was born. Of course the Temple was destroyed and the Jewish people scattered. Most Jewish people now await the return of Isaiah, and the cyclic view of history has long since fallen by the wayside. History has a beginning and an ending, and the Bible is kind enough to give us the ending. We do not know the day or the hour, and neither does Satan so he must raise up an Anti-Christ in each generation just in case."

He paused, "May I borrow your note book and pencil, please?" Assuming she allows this he takes it and begins drawing while he speaks. "Now think of time as a river, it has a source, God and an ending, but only The Father knows when this will occur. However, like any river, time can be diverted." He handed her back her pad with two drawing, one was a straight river and the other was a winding slough river. "I believe this second river is the river of time. It flows toward the ending but we humans can divert it, and push it into long slow curves that wind and meander. Satan wants the opposite, he wishes to speed up, to hasten the end of days because regardless of God's power he believes he will prevail and so do his followers. What we are caught up in right now is a war among Satan's generals, a via for Satan's attentions and favor because they all believe they will win and whomever has Satan's favor will have a greater share of the spoils."



She passed over the notebook and pencil, listening curiously to Simon's Christian view of time and history. She might have debated it further with what science had uncovered and her own experiences, but now was not the time for a discussion of science, philosophy, and faith, a discussion fraught with the potential for fresh argument.


He looked distant for a moment, "When you left, you crossed a bridge between the curving flow of time and in essence it is possible that you hastened the End of Days. This was bad, for me as I thought you callus to the plight of those in the gulf between here and there." He looked carefully at her, "I do not believe that now. Regardless, had you not left Lily and I would not have been able to connect and I would likely still be...pining...for you without hope of return on my affections." He smiled so that she understood he was not angry about this either. "Your attempt at punching me, while a bit aggressive, was within your temperament and it is that, your personality that I felt most compelling. Certainly I felt a carnal attraction for you and when I used the term mate it was an attempt on my part to soften the gender issues of marriage which you seem to have. Seem I say because I cannot know your mind unless you speak it. It was indeed your reaction to my revelation that I was infatuated with you that hurt more than your attempted attack or even your leaving for the future. You dismissed me as if I were beneath you."

He held up a hand, knowing she would want to respond but wanting to finish his point first, "It was an immediate reaction, visceral, to your immediate reaction. I did not feel we could mend fences at that point because too much hurt had passed between us. It was Lily who gently reminded me that to err is human. I am glad that you reached out with a gift," a look passed across his face as if he had just been reminded of something important, "and I am glad that you and I have been able to get to this point, where a grave has been dug for our hatchet. Now all that remains is to toss it in and cover it over." He extended his hand as if this small gesture could do that very thing.


She took back the notepad, staring at the sketch as Simon went on, growing uncomfortable and flushed with embarrassment as Simon professed again his former feelings for her. When he finished, she remained quiet for some time, turning over her thoughts and considering her response. She spoke at last, her words cool and measured. 'Everyone says more than they intend in a heated moment, and extremes of emotion provoke extremes of view. My words were borne of anger, though I stand by them in their context... Romantic interests make me uncomfortable. I never knew my mother, so I have had no one to guide me as a woman. I have never been a débutante; I have little knowledge or experience in courtship. I have heard conservative views from men that have made me wary and keen to maintain my independence. I have faced monsters that prey on women— my experiences have made me fearful... And, in any case, the life of a hunter, with its secrecy and danger, makes it quite difficult to pursue any romantic relationship. Yours was the first expression of interest I have received that I consider genuine and of honest motivation, and in my inexperience I was utterly shocked. Perhaps in my anger that turned to worse feelings... But, please, do not think me unable to return affection – not even yours. I am as able as anyone, and I am as whole a woman as any.' She looked up to Simon, blue eyes saddened by lost possibility, saying 'I believe I could have been open to the possibility, before. Now we shall not know what could have been.'

She stretched out her arms, feeling so wearied by these admissions and intense feelings kept restrained. 'As for the river of time, it is not for me to know God's plan. I feel I can only endeavour to preserve and improve my own small section of it. That may be all God intends us to do... Regardless, my leaving was not where the interference arose. It was when Belial lured Kate Piper back in time. With her able assistance, we were victorious against the Bentlys and their minions, and Emma was brutally punished for her disobedience.' Penny looked up to Castiel, her face tight with feeling. 'But Castiel informed me in 2013 that, without Kate, the fight should have gone much worse against us, that both Ian Shaw and myself would have been slain.' she revealed, her words cold and mournful for her lost, other self. 'He assured me it is true. Belial's wicked plans for me would have been ruined, and Emma Bently would have been free to cover up her crime and enact her plot against him.'

'In hindsight, I should always regret flipping a large dining table, soup tureen, and complete dinner service over the Bentlys.' she added with a dry chuckle.

'So, you see, the lost history is one that depends on my death. I cannot accept that, nor can I accept that God's plan requires that I die, though I assure you I would sacrifice myself to guarantee a greater good. But it is Hell's plans there were upset, not Heaven's. Fortuitously, I believe my leap into the future saved Kate in turn and has helped to undo Belial's schemes and restore the flow of time.'


He nodded, "I think, perhaps, God intended you to go with Kate. I do not know why. I accept it on faith. Something else is going on here, and I have decided that on faith I will accept that."

He smiled at Penny, "I think if I was suppose to stop you I would have gotten your note before you left. So you see, you were suppose to go. I would like for us to both be able to put this behind us and move on. We are allies. I hope we might be friends. In any case I trust you to act according to your conscience and in that vein you will do as God bids you."


Penny placed her hand against Simon's, so each could hold the other as equals. 'Then the hatchet is buried and the matter is settled. I forgive you, Father.  I am glad we could resolve this with clear heads. Now, let us put the worst of this behind us, and keep the best of this with us.'


He let her hand go, grateful for resolving conflict between them. "Remember the dominoes? We you and I, even Castiel I think, are all Dominoes in God's grand design. We cannot know the design until we see it from above, but we can all do our part. I agree that God has other intention for you than to die then. I accept on faith that you will fulfill His plan for you," He leaned in and spoke quietly, even though he was rather certain Castiel could hear him, "and perhaps it is here in this room with you? Don't let another opportunity slip by for fear Penny. Fear is good, it keeps us from making mistakes, but if over wrought it is as wrong as lust or any other base emotion. I implore you to at least be brave as I know you are and take this opportunity I leave you with."

Leaning back he coughed loudly, "Yes well I had better go and be sure that dear Lily is not missing me too badly." He gave formal and polite bow to Penny and a grin and nod to Castiel.


Penny nodded in agreement as Simon suggested it had all been God's plan. She sincerely hoped so. She had a wry smile. 'Dominoes we may be, but I should not want to be toppled over.'

But she blushed as Simon made his suggestion, easily getting the hint this time. 'I was speaking hypothetically,' she reminded him with emphasis on her earlier words, 'And leading into the topic of the nephilim.' Circuitously, she had perhaps evaded the specifics of her personal issue, and dealt out half-truths and hypotheticals, whilst getting the advice she needed and steering the conversation toward the matter of Lily. Oh, she found Castiel handsome, and good and gentle as an angel might be expected. He was a marvellous fancy for many women. But he was also too cool and remote to be a friend, he could not be pictured as a husband or father. And knowing the curse of the nephilim, she could not pass that on. No, it was the devilishly charming bit of rough that was Ian Shaw who intrigued and inflamed a sheltered noblewoman like Penny. But even he did not seem marriageable material. Penny wished affairs of the heart could as free as they were in 2013.

Or perhaps she was just furiously backpedalling and still too shy for that sort of thing today.

'Be careful. Do not give the nephilim a hint that you are aware of Lily's secret, else there will be trouble. Wait until she arises naturally, then speak with her if you can.' she warned Simon, not wanting him to be too carefree with Lily.

Penny looked around the chapel. 'I will stay and pray a while. I have much to think about before we set off.'


Castiel listens to the exchange somewhat awkwardly. Well...that was all quite personal he notes flatly. Perhaps it is best that I meet you in the past after all if there isn't anything else? Perhaps less based on attraction and women's roles in the Victorian era? His question is not sarcastic but genuine and you notice he is amusingly stiff at social interactions though he is polite and kind. The art of conversation is something he hasn't quite learned yet and your personal exchange seems to have thrown him a bit.


'Yes, well, I'd rather not have revealed so much...' Penny answered stiffly. 'But thank you for standing by as a...' Mediator, chaperon? Neutral third-party? The angel hadn't said or done anything, though she felt his calm presence had helped both of them settle their differences with cooler, clearer heads and open hearts. 'A friend.' She touched Castiel's forearm in thanks, lingering a moment in wonderment at earlier admissions. 'Yes, we shall see you, ah, then.'
This message was last edited by the player at 05:55, Mon 28 Sept 2015.

Cas gives a nod and with the sound of flapping wings he is suddenly gone though you know you'll see him soon enough.

ooc: Ok, looks like you guys are about ready to go. Just making sure one last time before you head off to get Kate. When you go back to the others Lily will suggest you get Tattoos from Marcus (a lovely half Chinese man with a full sleeve of tattoos on his left arm). It is a sigil to prevent possession and he recently discovered its uses via tattoo. It is optional of course, an amulet is also a way to do it but if you desire a permanent method of protection it does not take him long. Just choose your location and give me a general fort save to see how well you take it ;P. Let me know if there is anything else before you leave and then we'll get this party started.

After seeing Castiel and Father Simon off, Penny stayed in the chapel for a time, to rest her mind and spirit after the intense discussions and to reflect on her fears and concerns for what would come next. Belial's incursion into her own past could only mean the most personal of threats. What would she find when she stepped into her own past? Penny stayed to make proper confessions, to ask for forgiveness for her actions, those necessary but cruel, and for blessings and strength, praying to God and to Jesus and to the Mother...

...Domnu, the Goddess of the Deep Earth.

For it was onto her belly she would be walking again.


OOC: ;)

I'll move back to the main thread.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:40, Sat 26 Sept 2015.

Penny stirs from her reflections, realising she is not alone. From her seat on the pew, she looks up and sees the strangest figure standing beside her, staring up at the effigy of a man nailed to a pair of planks hanging on the wall. How odd it is, not to seem so ghastly. 'Rome! You worship their cruel executions?' she hisses in outrage.

'No. It's not like that. He's... a good and holy man who defied the empire.' Penny finds herself explaining, simplifying a grander tale.

'It seems he was unsuccessful.'

'He and his message lived on.'

'And the Mother?'

'There is an accord.'

The visitor turns: a woman, a warrior, clothed as an ancient Briton, in chequered cloth pants and tunic, a chain vest and leathers, and a long cloak. She carries a tall wooden shield and spear, with a sword sheathed at her hip, a bow and quiver at her back. A gold torque hangs around her neck, a silver spiralling band sits around her biceps. Her hair, bleached with lime, stands almost upright in spikes, like a lion's mane. Woad warpaint is daubed on bare arms and her face, giving her a fierce aspect. And that face... was Penny's own.

Penny is put in mind of the great Queen Boadicea – Boudica – but knows this is wrong. She is another ancient warrior queen, obscure and almost forgotten, more myth than history. One much closer to home. 'Queen Gwendolen!' A legendary queen of Cornwall, as recorded only in Geoffrey of Monmouth's fanciful history, and in family records as an ancient chieftainess of the Dumnonii. Daughter of Corineus the giant-slayer. Penny finds herself accepting this, she can hardly deny it. 'How did you come here? You lived thousands of years ago!' she exclaims.

The queen is amused. 'Oh, has it been that long already? I only went to sleep in my tent a few hours ago.'

Penny observes reality, and finds it false, for it is whatever she wishes it to be. Gwendolen's presence is also a superb indicator that things are not exactly real. 'Then we are both dreaming.'

And indeed they are, for now they stand in a smoky tent of cloth and skins, with a low-burning brazier, a bed of furs, and weapons at the ready. There are skulls and strange carvings. Outside, cold winds and black dogs howl. 'Time travel has always been possible in dreams.'

Penny laughs, it is the only response to the bizarreness of this. 'Ha! It seems I'm having my very own Celtic revival.'

'Tell me why I am here, daughter.' Gwendolen asks, not impatient.

Penny observes and deduces, even here. 'You have prayed to the gods, you are arrayed for battle, your weapons and armour are ready – I thought you would go into battle naked.'

Gwendolen laughs. 'Naked, in battle? That's stupid. You've been listening to the bards and the Romans.' Penny is chastised, but the queen adds with a grin 'Only in fertility rites.'

Penny blushes, but goes on. The facts rise easily to her mind. Of course, she is dreaming. 'You worry about the future. Whether you and your son will survive, whether your line will carry on.'

'You are correct. Tomorrow, I go into battle, to win back rule of the Britons and slay my unfaithful husband and his German witch.'

'And so you came to me, your last daughter, for hope.' Gwendolen nods, smiling proudly. 'Tell me why I am here.'

'You are preparing for battle, though I don't think much of your armour. But better than being naked, I think. You have prayed to the gods, you have made your peace. You are receiving your war markings.' They are in the tattoo artist's parlour. Penny notices now the pain in her back. How does she sleep through that? Ah, yes. 'Yet if I am here, then you worry for the past. Where you came from, the quality of your ancestors. The curse.'

Penny nods, her face grim. 'I don't want to go home.' she admits in shame. 'I fought so hard to get away.'

Gwendolen embraces her in strong arms, with thews like oak. 'Oh, you are so far from the moors of your home, daughter. And now you return. But you can never truly leave home, and home can never leave you, not while it lays in your heart.' she says, consoling as Penny sobs in her shoulder. 'We cannot choose family – fathers, husbands, ancestors, who may love us or fail us, and we can't not love them despite what they do. But we can choose among them, daughter. And there are so many more across the shadows of time. And you can choose your friends and allies. Take strength from the good, walk away from the bad. Put an arrow in that which truly offends you.' She parts, gripping Penny's shoulders. 'Find your mother. Rescue Kate. Give me a future, daughter.'

'I wish you victory, grandmother. Give me a past.'

Penny wakes.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:40, Mon 28 Sept 2015.

Simon walked, having offered his arm to Penny. "Adult baptism is somewhat uncommon in the Catholic faith and its progeny. Ana-Baptists practice it once a child reaches the age at which it can be held responsible for its actions. Essentially adult baptism normally represents conversion to the faith, but you are a rather unique case I think."

He was still attempting to grasp the minutia of time travel. "So you must forgive me as this is something of an anomaly. You already practice the faith. Your baptism, if I am correct, is more along the lines of a personal connection to God. Normally - in the conversion model - the Priest asks for a public confession of faith. This will not be a public event but if you will permit I will follow the script as it were. Using the same ceremony will impart a sense of continuity and being time honored tradition and all that."

He paused for her response before continuing. "For you, this will be about connecting you to God. You will be following in Christ's footsteps, he was baptized and so you will be as well." He chuckled, "I would not expect the Heavens to open up and God's voice to be heard audibly." He sobered quickly, "Though for you I expect you will feel a renewed sense of God's presence in your life. What questions do you have for me?"

Penny declined to take Simon's arm, though not rudely. She was just too distracted by the day's events, too disturbed by them, to relax sufficiently. 'Yes, of course. Please do what you believe is appropriate... My request was a spur-of-the-moment matter, and I am not certain of exactly what is required in this case. But, after discovering Belial's tampering in my heritage, the kidnapping of my infant self,' Penny listed, still pained, 'I wanted to confirm my faith, and the purity and safety of my soul, in this life and the next.' Death had been on her mind a lot, today.

'No, I do not expect to hear angelic trumpets either,' she agreed wryly, 'But I do hope I shall feel God's presence. I fear... I fear I do not have the same sense of faith as others do, much less yourself. You see, in this place, I have grown up with the magical world very close by. I was babysat by a ghost, I played with pixies and the spirits of the moor, and apparently now I was nursed by fiends. As an adult, I have seen so much more. I have talked freely with demons and angels, fought alongside them. It is all as natural to me as this moor. I have faith, but I fear I cannot believe. Instead, I can only know.' Penny closed her reddened eyes, saddened. 'Perhaps I am too scrutinising, too inquisitive. I do not have what you and others have. I may never know the wonder and mystery of the divine. I can only keep trying to seek it.'

'But I have no questions. Please just tell me know what to do.'

They'd come to the old church of St. Petroc's, a sturdy mass of grey stone, built of large granite blocks and partially fortified. It looked able to withstand an army, and looked like it had. Gravestones stood scattered around it, in no particular order; subsidence had caused some to stand lopsided amidst the long grass.


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Petroc
http://www.devonhistoricchurch...pford-spiney-st-mary

Simon smiled at her last statement, "If there is one thing I can guarantee, it is that if you seek God earnestly, you will find Him."

Entering the Church Simon said, "I will speak with the man in charge here. You will likely want to change into a baptism gown, so as not to harm your clothing. I will say some words, ask if you accept Jesus Christ as your personal savior. Then I will place a cloth over your mouth and nose, giving you the opportunity to take a breath. I will guide you to lean back and submerse yourself, and once fully submersed I will draw you back up and say a little more. It is a very simple ceremony, but I find the simplest are usually the most profound. Again do you have any questions?"

Anglicanism allowed for submersion, immersion, affusion (pouring), or sprinkling, though Penny had expected one of the latter two cases. 'The full dunking, is it? Very well.' Penny agreed, growing amused and light-hearted again as she looked forward to the rite. The sense of cleansing and regeneration involved in baptism would surely life her spirits after the dreadful encounter with Belial.

Entering the churchyard, they found the verger, a layperson who assisted the vicar, maintained the church and yard, and, in this case, dug the graves. The dour fellow greeted them with few words and directed them to Vicar Worsnop.

"Old Vicar Worsnop" was not quite as old as Penny remembered, when he'd seemed old enough to almost be part of the landscape. A portly old man with craggy face and beady eyes made beadier by his glasses, with a put-on temper over his good nature, he had the air of a kindly old pig, wearing the black and dog-collar of a priest. Penny smiled to see him, remembering fondly the times when he'd give her some guidance and "edification" before chasing her out of the church. He spoke in a thick Devon accent, though, and Penny at times had to translate for her friends, though her own accent grew the stronger in the process, with stronger 'r's and 's's more like 'z's, with the others might recognise as pirate speak. She'd learned the rustic dialect to fit in as a maiden, and for fun.

'Good evenin' to yers. Yer must be emmets in these parts, fer I've not seen yer likes before. Where yer gwain?'

'Uz be gwain to Plymouth, though not dreckly. I's name is Penny Black. I used to live in these parts as a young maid'n, down Coombe Tracey way. But after checkin' grammer's records, I'm affeard I was not baptised as a cheald. I was hopin' to get it done proper in thikky old parish.'

Worsnop looked sympathetically at Penny. 'A chrisemore, are yer? That baint right. Alright, us'll get a proper upsettin' for yer. But I see yer brought yer own priest, is it? Think I wasn't up to thikky task?' he began in confected indignation, peering at Simon, puffing up his barrel-like chest.

'Father Simon, from America. A friend. I's sure yers can work it out between yers.' Penny teased, and added 'And this iz Kate, I's sister. Half. She's also from America.'

'Well, let's stop commercin' outside. Gwain on inside thikky church, let's get this upsettin' done before it gets dimmet.' he shooed them inside the old church, but commented quietly to Penny with a curious, knowing air. 'But I's been vicarin' this parish many yers, and can't say as I've heard of yer before.'

'Oh, yer will, Vicar Worsnop, yer will.' Penny answered with a smile and quickly moved on inside.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:53, Sat 30 Jan 2016.

Simon takes a few moments with the local Parish Priest. Someone would come to take Penny to change, and Simon went to change himself while the pool is filled.

((Giving Penny a chance to post stuff about changing if she chooses))

The interior of the old medieval church was small and plain, even grim and austere, but with familiarity it had a rustic charm that made it comforting. Everything appeared to have been locally made over generations, making it all integrally a part of and a product of the community came together and worshipped here. Wooden pews worn smooth by centuries of farmer's bottoms, and sturdy stone pillars under a high arched roof led down to the pulpit, altar, and font. There was a single stained-glass window, depicting Saint Petroc taming wolves, which, standing on hind legs, looked like they could well have been werewolves. Reliquary, sacristy, and sarcophagus were tucked about here and there.

Of course, it wasn't every church that a carving of the Devil on the back wall. The ugly face was twisted and glowering as if trapped in the stone. It seemed a reminder of the evil that lurked behind everyone.

The verger showed Penny to the sacristy, though she knew the way, and left her to change while he filled the font and Worsnop fussed over blessing it.



OOC: I'll just post a description.
http://celticsaints.org/2010/0604a.html

OOC: Sorry, did you need me to provide more or move it on? I'll work on it tomorrow if I get a chance. (Babysitting...)

My fault. I had to have a Lumpectomy yesterday and it wiped me out.

Simon changed into a robe similar to the one Penny would be wearing, though his had a cross stitched into either side. He stood waist deep in the baptismal pool waiting for Penny patiently. His hands are folded in front of his body, but when she arrives he offers his hand and whispers "It is deeper than it seems and the top step is further down. Take my hand until your on the step and I will release it."

OOC: No worries, that sounds nasty.


Worsnop grumped and grumbled over the filling of the whole stone-walled pool, eventually admitting to Simon 'Don't mind the maunderin' of an old gatfer, young man, tis just uz normally do thikky pourin' in this parish. That's why uz call it the upsettin'! It upsets the chealds! Uz 'ave got ourselves enough water around here, anywhow! ...Ah, but yer must think uz be as maze as a brush!' he cackled merrily.

'Ogden! Get thikky bed ale! Ah, now ere's our bowerly maid'n. Alright, yer can lead uz through the baptisin'. Show uz how ee's done.' Ogden poured the good christening ale and served it around.

Penny emerged from the sacristy wearing a long baptism robe, probably the first time the dusty, musty adult-sized robe had been used in decades, yet it remained a pure snow-white. She gazed at Kate, Simon, Worsnop and the others in attendance, somewhat amazed at the whole experience, quivery with anticipation. She took Simon's hand now, and stepped up and into the pool, shivering at the cold touch of the water.

After a moment to acclimatise, she produced a pound coin and placed it gently into the water, watching it sink to the bottom and rest on the strange spiralling designs carved into the stone. It wasn't a wish, but an offering, a memory of an ancient rite when the people of this land sank treasures into the bogs, until Saint Petroc came. Now it was given to the church rather than the goddess, though perhaps the distinction did not matter. Worsnop nodded approvingly to Penny, and she nodded to Simon to continue.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:57, Fri 05 Feb 2016.

Simon nodded, "It is the same with us, we use an aspergillum under most circumstances. This is unique, not only does Penelope need to be baptized as an adult, she needs a greater connection to God. I hope that giving her the full immersion will help her in the second sense."

With Penny in and after she had dropped her name sake into the water, Simon began. "Baptism was not begun by the early church, but rather it was a Jewish custom. Ceremonial washing and purification were practiced as a regular part of Jewish life. Christ upended this, going to his cousin John to be baptized in order to fulfill Gods will.

Likewise today we gather so that our sister Penelope might follow in Christ's footsteps. Baptism is not the key to changing a person, but rather the answer to a call to continue a change that has already begun in us. We therefor welcome our sister Penelope into the body of the faith."

While speaking he arranged her so that she stood with her side to him facing her mother. He smiled, "Penny, do you now profess your faith publicly, that you have accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior?"

Father Worsnop said his own words after Simon, which descended into nigh-incomprehensibility.

Penny remained quiet all through the ceremony, outwardly still but inwardly churning with all kinds of thoughts and anxieties. Hope mingled with fear within her; hope that this would protect her, purify her, welcome her to Heaven and save her from Belial's foul clutches. Yet she feared that God would reject her as Belial's creature, as some upstart pagan, and bar her from Heaven. Could she truly escape the trap Belial had laid about her? Could she truly live in two worlds, between earth and water and sky on the moor, one foot in the pagan and in past, one hand with Christ and in the future?

For hope and strength and faith, Penny looked to Kate, her newfound mother; to Worsnop, whom she now realised to be as close to a father figure as any man she'd known; to Simon, a sparring partner and a friend. She looked to the stain-glass portrait of Saint Petroc taming the wolves – a metaphor, she knew, for converting the Devonians. And through it she saw the moor, fancying she spied the spirit of Queen Gwendolen riding atop the hellhound Juliet, hailing her. Penny had faith, faith in people, in herself and in friends, in respect and goodness and rationality, that things would improve. God, Jesus, and the Mother embodied that for her. 'I do.' Penny answered, losing her voice so it came out as almost a mouse-like squeak. She tried again, 'I do. And I always have done.' she reaffirmed.

Simon nodded, "Then it is my great pleasure to baptize thee, Penelope Ann Veracity Darkmoor. Buried to your old life..." He took a small handkerchief, making sure she had taken a breath and then used it to pinch her nose.

((Historical Note: Most people around the world cannot swim. In the "western world" we have the YMCA, whose primary mission is to teach people to do that. Since Simon does not know if Penny swims, he is assuming not and is pinching her nose - not hard - to keep her from breathing in water.))

Simon eased her backwards into the water, and as soon as she was totally submerged he pulled her right back out, "...and raised again to live in your new life." He could not resist giving her a gentle hug. "Thank you for letting me be a part of this."

Kate watched on in silence fully supportive of Penny's baptism. It was a strange feeling watching the woman that was her daughter and Kate enjoyed the chance to stand back and observe from afar.

At Penny's full and family name, Worsnop raised a bushy eyebrow in intrigue, perhaps wondering if she was an illegitimate daughter of the local aristocracy. It would handily explain why she'd not been baptised in this parish. But the old priest knew better than to probe, and he let it go. He would know better, soon, when another Penelope Ann Verity Darkmoor returned, a small child who would grow into a strangely familiar maiden.

Penny did not know how to swim, but going to the seaside was a popular English pastime, and Penny could at least hold her breath underwater and try to stay afloat. Still, she allowed Simon to hold her nose and lean her back into the water.

Suddenly she was plunged into the holy water drawn from the local stream that ran over the moors, put there by the heavy rain last night. It was all part of Creation. She felt so calm and curious, her senses enhanced yet cut off from the mundane world and connected instead to something deeper and vaster. Underwater, sounds were weirdly distorted, muffled and muted, and they echoed in the small stone cistern. From above, she thought she heard voices, of her friends or of angels, calling her upwards. She touched a hand to the side of the cistern, feeling the rough granite, feeling a faint vibration beyond, like the heartbeat of the world. It was like she was in a womb in Mother Earth, waiting to be reborn into the arms of the Father.

And then she was, drawn back up into light and air and sound. In the mundane world, she gasped like a fish and shivered in the cold, Simon's hug providing brief warmth. 'Thank you.' she murmured. She did feel cleansed and refreshed, her faith reaffirmed and accepted by God. Chilled and soaking, stunned by the whole experienced, Penny looked around her friends, seeking out the eyes of her mother Kate. This seemed a new beginning for both of them.