multiversallogs | I didn’t know how frail your throat was under the blue collar.

Who: Curious first gen youth, temple personnel, sundry
What: A visit to a temple, a ritual witnessed
Where: Eliandre's Temple in Griss Twist
When: Presumably in the afternoon
Notes: A temple scene was requested
Warnings: Risk of Zen philosophy, death may be referenced

The gods of Baedal, though often elusive, hold a great amount of power and influence - not least through the people who pay them tribute. It may be subtle but it's always there, or that's what people claim; prayers answered, favours granted, vengeance exacted. There are many public temples in the city and more, presumably, that are closed off to visitors. Temple folk are a common sight on the streets.

As her dominions bid, Eliandre is a god of many temples and great complexity. Justice is never simple and though it shouldn't be, death often is. Her home in Griss Twist is one of the larger temples in the city as it harbours the Hush, an old atrium garden. It's big enough to keep tall knotted trees and more humble specimens. There is even a pond for koi fish and some more unique creatures. Its caretakers are often older people, retired from a life spent in the presence of death. They never speak; talking is strictly prohibited inside of the Hush.

Outside is a different matter through it rarely gets loud. The décor is an exercise contrasts, black and bone white tile covers the floor. There are places to sit, some comfortable while others appear less so. Black offering bowls filled with white teeth stand on an altar by the wall, not really in focus. There is always a votary and some novices about to field and advise visitors or supplicants. There are ordinators too, figures that keep to the background dressed in solid black or solid white. They don't bother anyone who does not need to be bothered.

At the moment, the place has an energy to it, the feel of something happening. A small group of people look have gathered around a woman with xenian features. She's older, the fur on her pointed and notched ears going snowy. The group seems very amiable, a little eager perhaps for the woman's taste to be fawning over her but she bears it with grace. It's a procession of sorts, heading towards the Hush.

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Barbara slows to a stop as they reach the temple, gaze roaming over the grand austerity of the building. She's passed it a few times, always with a lingering glance. There was always a certain allure to it; perhaps because she knew who it was for.

"Kind of regal, isn't it?" she asks, glancing up at Steph. Her tone is light, but there's an odd sort of weight in her chest; an uncertainty she can't quite discard.

She's never been one for gods. It's impractical, though, to ignore their presence here - it could even be dangerous.

It's nice, still, to have Steph with her. If she feels awkward and out of place, at least she won't be alone.

Steph is -

She's not sure, really. Her relationship with religion has been mixed at best, and while she's never doubted the existence of gods, she's had trouble liking them. If a creature is omnitpotent and omniscient, why do they let so many awful things happen?

Still, she's here because she thinks it's important, and because Babs suggested it and Steph didn't want to make her go alone.

"It is," as an answer to Babs' question, "I don't like it." Brutally honest is today's theme, apparently. She's never liked churches that look like they have a lot of money - it seemed like a waste to her.

The temple is spacious and clean, but it's austere more than anything that implies a misuse or over abundance of money.

They are welcome to wait in the temple itself or, should they look curious, one of the ordinators might approach them and offer assistance?

Barbara's always appreciated brutal honesty, and it draws a faint smile from her now; she can understand Stephanie's disdain for the place.

"Well. We can't make a full assessment out here."

So she heads inside, and doesn't hide the fact that she's new - her head turns this way and that, gaze pouring over all the details.

She's not sure if she's relieved or not when someone approaches them.

"I guess not."

Despite the fact that Babs can take care of herself, Steph manages to fall into step beside her like a body guard. It's not that she thinks anyone's dangerous here, it just happens unconsciously.

She looks around as much as Babs does. It's not the first time she's been in a place of worship, but it's been a long time since she was in one and not wearing a superhero costume (her life is weird).

Her smile is easy, though, for the ordinator that approaches them, but she'll let Babs do the talking.

The ordinator is a slight, birdlike fellow missing an eye and one of his four arms. While it's difficult to guess his age, it's not unreasonable to assume that he's well past middle-age.

"What do you require?"

Barbara's smile is a bit uncertain, which galls her, but sincere.

"This is our first time. Could you tell us a bit about the temple? What the customs are?" Customs. She's not sure that's the right word to use - it's so clinical - but it's the best she's got at the moment.

Steph looks vaguely concerned at the ordinator's appearance, as the thought crosses her mind that maybe that was part of the customs. She mentally scolds herself after a second, for being so paranoid and schools her face back into a friendly smile.

But she doesn't have anything to add, so she stays silent and waits for the answer to Babs' questions.

I didn’t know how frail your throat was under the blue collar.

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ffff, sorry for the wait.

same here

also sorry :V

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