Fletcher

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 0/3 | Perception: +7 ConditionsNone Hearing the numbers laid out by the person who would know the most, Kjersti hms and sets the mug of coffee down on the table in front of her. "Any chance we know if Zea is tryin'a do anythin' similar? If'n it's their neck'a the woods, might as well put the efforts t'gether 'tsead of pullin' separate ways." As they have seen, the Cloven Hoof has their own problems ahead of them but they have done their best to take care of their own. Odds seem good that these folks being displaced from their homes by Thrune would join up with Zea and her people sooner or later. "Other'n that... I fear gettin' folks used to a charity for a month, then havin' nothin' to support it the next month. We ain't got the most reliable of income... an' beatin' up Citizens or dottari jus' gonna earn us more smoke..." Biting her lip, Kjersti weighs the pros and cons. "I jus' dunno. I like where your head is at, Star, I do... but we might need to secure, eh... some fundin'." The wheels continue to turn as the redhead's bright blue eyes turn to Rexus. "Wonder if anyone besides Victocoras could be persuaded to do some... common good."

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 0/3 | Perception: +7 Conditions: None As the products of Alkenstar and Cheliax change hands between the two excited (at least, she figures Temperance is excited, but hiding it) gunslingers, Kjersti laughs softly with a smile and addresses her drink for a sip or two, bright blue eyes only for the blonde tiefling as she does what she does best. While her own accent doesn't come across so differently from the Alkenstari woman, the redhead is absolutely clueless about this craft that the two women share - only that those irons are loud and dangerous. It comes briefly to mind that it doesn't seem like much of a thief's weapon... "Serious as sin," Kjersti confirms with a nod, finally looking over to Ada as her offer is addressed. "Ain't no reason t'be stickin' folks with bad deals, then assumin' they be willin' to do favors, y'know? Same thing with tryin'a pull y'all outta your element. Same as usin' the right tools for the right jobs. I ain't sneakin' 'bout with that hammer'a mine like y'all can." She continues to watch the two as the exchanged weapons are inspected, critiqued, made better for the conversation. She wondered about the rest of the Jills, especially the young ones she had seen. Wondered all of their stories and... what kind of mess she might be getting them into by helping. "Speakin' of sneakin' 'bout..." she muses, remembering the sort of symbolism of them dropping their reds when Scarplume was killed. "Dunno how frequently y'all made a thing about callin' signs an' whatnot, but y'might consider ditchin' the memorable colors - if'n y'haven't already. If y'all make your way abroad in the city, be all the more confusin' to the Citizens when they're just picked on everywhere." If they traveled beyond the Nursery and Redroof in general, it would certainly do wonders to protect the places they operated. "As for hidey-holes," she repeats the word with a bit of a smile. "Much obliged. Maybe Temperance can write down those spots for future 'mergencies?"

Lady Myrthe AC: 19 | Fort: +4 | Ref: +10 | Will: +8 HP: 22 / 22 | Hero Points: 0 / 3 | Perception: +8 ConditionsNone Solving riddles and puzzles has never been a strong suit of Lady Myrthe - besides the schemes of nobles - and the Forlorn seems to drift between Lady Martella's agents as they work towards finding the answer that would get them out of this place. Since they've circumnavigated the whole of this safehouse, Lady Morilla's aide appears less wary of attack, hands no longer hovering in the vicinity of her blades. Her keen eyes follow the actions of her companions as they slowly gather their answers and narrow as she feels the grinding sound of achievement. The desire to reunite with her Lady has not diminished in the slightest despite her calm demeanor, and she immediately shifts to move in the direction she heard the sound - but finds herself nearly colliding with Armen once more as he rounds the corner, still inspecting the place. "Have you heard from your patroness? It sounds as though she and Martella made it out." Myrthe looks up at Armen, remaining in his space for a few heartbeats longer than one might after such a breach of conduct. He has learned enough of the subtle tells in her dour expressions to know she continues to feel an urgency to escape this place. Their delay has cost them so much time and potentially life. "Yes," she answers simply, stepping back and beginning to drift in the direction he had been going, as if to accompany. For a moment, it seems like that is all she has to say on the matter, until she looks over her shoulder and murmurs, "My Lady says the Society got them out, but she has been separated from your sister..." Despite the difficulty of some of the Lotheed family personalities, Myrthe had always been quietly fond of Martella, from a distance. Her chest aches to make sure she is found safely as much as Gloriana - both personally and professionally. "I must get to Westpark... though I do not know where Martella will be."

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 0/3 | Perception: +7 Conditions: None Not one to turn down the offering of good will, Kjersti steps over and pours a measure into one glass, then hesitates over the second when she sees Temperance politely decline. Perhaps that is for the best, that one of them stay one-hundred-percent clearheaded. A soft clink of the crystal stopper finalizes that. Then following the cue from the other two, Kjersti settles in on a crate with one leg tucked up in front, supporting her arm and the glittering liquid swirling gently in hand. Her bright blue eyes watch Ada speak attentively. "First, ain't no one gonna be fodder, long as I have'a say. We are precious few, all'a us, an' sendin' people to foolish deaths just ain't good math. An' more importantly, don't sit good in m'head or m'heart." She glances over the Temperance, who has ever kept her mindful of their limited numbers and limited capability. Hope is good, but if it outpaces practicality, they'll fall off the tracks. "If lives ain't got value, we ain't no better'n the ones we fightin'." "So how do we meet in the middle, here?" "Disruption," Kjersti finally says after a brief pause. The Jills and their capabilities had been on her mind since the moment Ada agreed to meet with them. The recent escalation to bloodshed told her that her spooked cats still had claws and were no strangers to violence, even if they had been goaded on by a scarier and more violent leader. They could handle themselves, though it seemed clear from their interim- or new-leader that they were still a group out for spoils. "The uniforms an' the armor suits are easy 'nuff to spot - an' avoid - but it's them Citizens been the worst, cause they just slither 'round among the good folks. You find them sorts, pick'em apart the way you reckon is best... maybe do it in random parts'a town... an' you're doin' us the service of keepin' 'em nervous while also keepin' whatever y'find..." She can almost sense the look going to come from Temperance. "Less it seems important to share or... I dunno, return to an owner. But orders, secrets, letters... we got a friend jus' dyin' to read everythin' he can get his mitts on. Takin' the wind outta their sails could take a lotta pressure off... well... everyone." The idea of letting the Jills keep everything they find might seem foolish or drastic, but Kjersti hopes that it is more a show of trust. While it didn't seem like these Citizens would be entrusted with truly valuable gear or wealth, it was certain that they were running their own neighborhood-level rackets and pinching at the common people around them. Perhaps not the biggest scores, but maybe safer ones which might appeal to the Jills right now. And hopefully, if they found something truly important to the cause, they might share it. "I also ain't proposin' to be tellin' y'all what to do, less it's somethin' direly important to us all. But I sure would like t'hear from y'all periodic-like. Brag on your hauls or jus' shoot some shit..." She gestures over to her tiefling companion. "Exchange ideas with a kindred soul, mayhaps."

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +7 ConditionsNone "I cain't help but have th'same feelin'," Kjersti agrees soberly with Bellis' assessment that burning books isn't far off when folks like this are starting to clamp down on dissent. Books gave people ideas to think about, especially if they had roots in any of the groups they had run off thus far. While the Ravens' ciphers and puzzles had proven somewhat vexing, they still contained such valuable information - more of which was being tethered together each time they brought things to Rexus. "There certainly will be a time for that, yes," she continues, a soft chuckle coming from deep in her throat at Bellis' eagerness to express his talents for immolation. "Though, seein' it's most recent use 'gainst folks, it might be a thing employed with careful consideration. Much as I'd like to burn every Thrune-suckin' bastard in the city... we're just as likely to burn half the city down in the process. An' ain't no one gonna be thrilled with that." The thought of their own terror-machine comes to mind, causing a subtle twitch in the redhead's eye. Eventually they were going to have to sort that out, as well. Before they became known for as much brutality as the ones they were trying to overthrow. "An' I ain't expectin' to put th'young ones in danger, if we can help it. We have safe places where folks can be helpful. Though, I'm sure you're plenty capable y'self," she adds, glancing to Kael. Another arcanist and his apprentice would be invaluable for more reasons that Kjersti had imagination for. "Even if for now, y'just have your ears to the ground wherever you are, that's great. But if you want to chat further - somewheres we ain't keepin' the hardest workin' barkeeper in the city up late, a'course - I hear Laria Longroad over in Villegre makes a great cup of coffee. Y'might already know it." She glances over to Setrona. "Goes for you, too, if y'have a night off. Want to take a long walk."

Szastuhastah AC: 17 | Fort: +4 | Ref: +5 | Will: +6 HP: 19 / 19 | Hero Points: 1 / 3 | Perception: +6 Focus Pool: 2 / 2 | CantripsInspire Courage (Composition) Forbidding Ward Message Musical Accompaniment Needle Darts Read the Air Shield Choice of Daze, Detect Magic, or Mage Hand | Spells1st Level: Counter Performance (Composition) Lingering Composition (Composition) Fear Liberating Command Soothe | ConditionsNone Partway across the room, Szastuhastah stops ringing the silver bell long enough to take hold of Xhokan's net in both hands. She is trailing just behind Cecilia toward the closest dog-faced gremlin, her path weaving to and fro with the quickened slither. Unfortunately, she is thoroughly distracted by the Taldane's biffed leap. "Oh! Missss Cecilia!" she reflexively gasps, her arms already thrown back to toss the net. As unluck would have it, she throws the expanse of net at the nasty little thing, but it hooks on the silver bell she was still grasping in one of those hands, snagging and falling to the ground before her. "What isss... happening?" she murmurs, coiling herself low to try to retrieve the net for another attempt. Szas Crit Fails the Will save. Go low or go home? And fails the throw to capture the lower pugwampi

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 0/3 | Perception: +7 Conditions: None It was nearing a week since the Silver Ravens had scaled the ramshackle hideout of the Red Jills and confronted them for their recent, more bloodthirsty deeds in and around the Nursery. Their willingness to talk once their demagogue had been dispatched spoke volumes to their sense of self-preservation, but did not guarantee that they would move from one master to another - even if the other was more a movement for good. In all honesty, it is a pleasant surprise when Laria tracks down Kjersti and presents a young tiefling boy bearing a note from Ada. Sending him on his way with the generous payment she has promised any of the young ones who bear their messages, the farmgirl collects Temperance from her work that evening - as requested by the letter - and they head out on the trek across the city to Redroof. Surprisingly - or perhaps not? - the Raven pair were not directed to return to the Jill's territory, but rather a warehouse at the very edge of the Yolubilis River, within sight of the bridge. On first inspection, the place seems to be locked up tight - likely due to the recent closure of the harbor - until they find a side entrance that has been left open a crack, a small shred of crimson cloth blocking the latch from fully engaging in the door. Once inside, a trio of evenly-spaced skylights cast pools of ambient afternoon light into the building, only one of which is situated where it strikes the ground rather than stacks and pallets of crates. The smell of timber and dust is heavy and a soft, repetitive 'ting' sound carries down from the high roof. All manner of markings are on the crates they maneuver through, lending no clues as to what this place specializes in storing. In that central pool of light stands a very striking, bowler-hatted figure leaning against a single crate in the center of the warehouse floor. Ada's long legs are crossed over casually at the ankle, and that menacing firearm is prominent on her hip. One hand is thrust into a pocket while the second is the source of the soft sound - thumb-flipping a silver coin over and over again into the air. Their approach does not startle the cool woman, who continues her rhythmic toss until they are close. Kjersti opted to leave the Falco's hammer at home, which she imagined drew a narrowed glance from Temperance, but felt it important to arrive in a much more sensitive manner compared to the first time. Primarily meaning no Guy. Secondarily, only her words. It remained to be seen whether her tiefling companion had such discretion, though the tall redhead had not insisted she follow suit. Remembering the look between the two, bringing along at least that handcannon seemed as much a valuable talking point as anything. Thumbs thrust into her belt, Kjersti strolls up til it feels 'close enough' and then stops. "Evenin' Ada," she says, simply.

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +7 ConditionsNone Kjersti's cheeks start to turn rosy behind a sip of her own mug, betraying her understanding of Setrona's attentions. An attempt at a casual dismissal of her safety concerns gets caught in her throat and at least Setrona gets the satisfaction of seeing her guest start to fluster before they are both startled by the arrival of the little owl. The moment is certainly odd for being inside the Tooth and Nail, but stranger things have haunted the lowish ceiling of this place before. And recently. When Setrona rises to confront the person she realizes has been present for the extent of their chat, Kjersti follows suit more slowly and has her jaw set for the possibility that someone might try to make use of what had been heard. Though as quickly as her teeth clamp together, a reassuring touch from the other redhead eases them and she follows Setrona's performative stomping across the room to confront the halfling that has revealed himself. And as the resident tallest person in the room, she takes a knee out of her customary respect for Smallfolk, leveling the field as much as she can when speaking to them. It puts her, amusingly, almost eye-to-eye level with their gracious host. "Kjersti Volden," she introduces herself, extending a calloused hand to Bellis politely, then turns her bright blue gaze to Kael as they join them. "Oh... an' I know this one... K...Kai...? Kell.. Kael! Right?" She snaps a finger trying to remember. The evening she and Maria had offered their intimidating presence as bouncers, she had seen them among the servers, frantically working to keep the Nail running while being pranked by the psuedodragon. "Been any calmer since we re-homed our prankster friend? Or is havin' an Awake Setrona a bad trade?" She glances sidelong at the proprietor and smirks faintly. But that's not what is being discussed at the moment. Propping her arm across her knee, the farmgirl takes a deep breath. "I come here this evenin' hopin' that some folks 'round here - or them's displaced from the Badger - might could be inter'sted in hitchin' up the wagon they been loadin' with complaints." There's a heartbeat where she wonders if that phrasing made sense. "The Falcos place got burned cause'a too much grumblin', yeah? An' same's comin' for this place if some tongues don't stop a'waggin'. But it might give 'em a bit'a satisfaction to do somethin' 'bout it... An' folks like me are willin' to take whatever help as might be offered. Nothin's - and no one's - too small." Letting Bellis mull that over for a second, she rocks back to sit on her heel and looks over to Setrona again. "Cause I'll be damned if they do it to this place, too."

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 0/3 | Perception: +7 Conditions: None While the intent behind the gentle touch of Temperance's fingers is not intimate, the sensation of it certainly feels so. The faint hairs on Kjersti's arm raise faintly as she focuses on the contact. Even now, in perhaps the safest situation she could be in, there is the silent fear of another person knowing what has been a tightly kept secret. However, the nephilim's thoughtful observance of her marking stands opposed to those fears. She can be trusted. A soft sniff of a laugh escapes her nose and she retrieves her arm, almost reluctantly, after her fingers retreat. "I hadn't thought of it that way..." she muses, quietly. Sitting back up from what might have been observed as a strange sprawl across Temperance's workspace, Kjersti stretches her back and smiles. A 'pleasant distraction' was the best she might have hoped for - though she knew the sweetbun was a solid contender for the main reason it was pleasant. Leaving her mug but collecting the plate and her own mug, the farmgirl stands (carefully, as she's forever nervous that she's forgetting about some low-hanging bit of this cavern). "My pleasure. An' don't forget y'asked me 'bout some trainin' later t'day, too," she says, as much a reminder to herself as Temperance. "Somethin' 'bout studyin' my movements." Turning to step away and leave the inventor to her work, the last request bring's Kjersti's bright blue gaze back over a shoulder and she grins. "You got it. Send Professor to fetch me - s'long as he don't peck my other eye - an' I'll bring y'somethin'." With that, she steps out of the workshop area and into the cold, quiet cavern, feeling a might warmer in her chest.

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 0/3 | Perception: +7 Conditions: None "...As for what it's worth...what I've accomplished here would not have happened without the right...encouragement." A soft smile comes slowly to Kjersti's lips as Temperance speaks those last words, delivered in the measured manner she has come to expect (and has started to understand) and offers a nod in return. It's a response that doesn't make any fanfares out of victory, or toldja-so's at being right, because trying to win over the stern blonde hadn't been for some prize but was rather a heartfelt plea. And she remained the redhead's priority, 'the most dangerous woman she ever met'. Kjersti lays her arm out flat across the table, open hand resting near the now-empty breakfast plate. The detail from the rose-and-thorns icon is presented for Temperance's inspection if she should desire, still very prominent even after removal; it's possible the flesh would never go back to normal. Setting down her own mug, she traces down her forearm with a fingertip until it dips into the mark. "Hope... is as much a bane as a balm," she murmurs, potentially a phrase heard or learned from someone else. "I ain't never seen visions or whatnot. Been given no divine tellin's. Prob'ly the furthest thing there is from a cleric... but learnin' folks're bein' treated somethin' terrible, even out in the countryside... It ignited somethin' inside. Somethin' that were always there, but waitin'." Regarding the stigmata as she softly speaks, her chin sinks down to lay on her other arm, bright blue eyes finally turn up to Temperance. "I dunno if it's faith in the Everbloom that sees us through this storm... but I do know it's faith in each other that gives us a chance." The words linger in the air for a moment, no thunderbolts striking the humble champion of rebellion. As it was before, meeting in a hole beneath a barn, it was the people that made this work. The goddess provided the inspiration. A soft laugh breaks the silence at some unknown thought. And while Kjersti makes no motion to be getting up, her eyes flicker to the plate again and an eyebrow quirks. "Shall I steal 'nother from upstairs, or should I letcha get back to your work?"

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +7 ConditionsNone "I... know that tailor..." Kjersti realizes as Setrona gives her the name. She runs a hand down the front of the vest she wears, measured and tailored for her by the very same when she was taken there by Temperance. "The... Devil's Threads, right?" For a moment, she wonders if maybe he has some sort of finger on the pulse because of his shop, like Setrona herself. She makes a mental note of it - just another of the many places she needed to go, people to speak with. A soft laugh escapes her nose and she smirks. "I shoulda known we see the same tailor." She looks over to the kettle, ignored thus far but likely ready for them. The glove of her gauntlet helps insulate her hand as she reaches out to take it and pour them each a steaming, pinkish, aromatic tea. It wasn't rose petals but she had never been much of a fan... if it even was what Minali decreed. She was a lay-person at best, when it came to all that. Least, it didn't feel like power flowed through her, like a cleric or priest. Not often, at least. Setting back with her own cup, she raises it up to her nose and takes a deep breath. It was clear that Setrona had taken a big risk to share that much with her and she smiles before burning her mouth with that first sip. "Nnng.... Ouch, ha... Well... Thank you for trustin' me... again... Miss Sabinius. It means a lot... but if it be leadin' more trouble to your door, I'll leave you be. I ain't ready to let eggs be cracked for my omelette, yet. Ever, if I had a say."

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 0/3 | Perception: +7 ConditionsNone Kjersti sighs ans nods. "We'll deal with him when we have to," she quietly agrees. There was no telling where Erick was, what he was doing. And journeying to a huge city like this in search of one man - especially one who might be traying not to be found - was a fool's errand. If nothing else, Maria had saint-like patience for coming along knowing it was going to be this hard. "Still... no promises I ain't gonna wring 'is stupid neck. With sisterly love." Her friend can tell her heart isn't truly in the violence she has declared, especially when it's just a distant dream. Giving Maria's hand one last squeeze, Kjersti shifts herself up to sit and stares off at the window where the dark blue of the sky is starting to lighten. "I won't keep y'any longer, if y'want to get some more sleep," she announces, though she doesn't yet move from the bedside. "Just needed a little sense-talk... like I always have in the past." With that, she turns a smile to her, stands, and limps over to her own bed to slowly change out of bed-clothes and into regular clothing. "It's gonna get better," she murmurs after a long silence, almost to herself. "...cause it must."

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 0/3 | Perception: +7 ConditionsNone Kjersti was not expecting a response quite like that. Clearly Setrona has been bearing more of a burden than she had realized. Her cheeks color slightly with embarrassment at seeming to assume the woman was ignorant or left out of the things moving around her tavern. She was still learning what the big picture was around this city and they had only dipped their toes into one of the only places Thrune's people didn't like to go. Their strike into Aria Park was into dangerous territory... losing territory, she imagines Setrona would say. It's all so much bigger than a farmgirl from the south had known. Temperance had already tried to make her understand that. "I'm sorry, I weren't meanin' to assume..." she starts, sitting back in the chair and holding her hands in her lap a bit like a student who has just been lectured by a professor. Of course, it's clear Setrona is warning her, not chiding or disparaging her. Kjersti looks down at her lap . "An' no... we ain't nearly ready for that. We took our licks from some dogs yesterday, much less Hellknights. We ain't ready to move on much'a anythin' yet. We just..." She pauses a moment as she is taking stock of the people they call allies. It's not much more than a few dozen. And half of those are young, or old, or only able to help in certain ways. Sure, they needed their Rexuses and their Fushi sisters, their Vendelfeks and Larias... but they needed... eyes. "We need t'know what's goin' on, not just react a day late an' a copper short when someone sends to us for help," she finally verbalizes. "Eyes and ears... People in all sorts'a places. No torches or pitchforks, not yet. Just... help." She looks back up at the little redhead and smiles faintly. Whether she had already been involved with something like the Falcos or Laria is uncertain, but her willingness to make suggestions and give advice is invaluable. "I don' e'en know what th'Hell a bearded devil is, so there y'are, already helpin' make m'life less dead."

Szastuhastah AC: 17 | Fort: +4 | Ref: +5 | Will: +6 HP: 19 / 19 | Hero Points: 1 / 3 | Perception: +6 Focus Pool: 2 / 2 | CantripsInspire Courage (Composition) Forbidding Ward Message Musical Accompaniment Needle Darts Read the Air Shield Choice of Daze, Detect Magic, or Mage Hand | Spells1st Level: Counter Performance (Composition) Lingering Composition (Composition) Fear Liberating Command Soothe | ConditionsNone "It is greatly appreciated, Master Xhokan," Szastuhastah replies to the generous kobold, bending deeply at the 'waist' once more as they are given permission to arm themselves for the banishment of the storage room squatters. They then depart for the afflicted space quickly. Upon arrival, Szas holds both a corner of a net and the handle of a silver bell in one hand while the other is ready to manage the second part of the net. Looking up to Nyoka on her shoulder, her own little bell at the ready, she murmurs, "Disscordant ringing would certainly vex my own ssensess, sso I can only assssume it will do the ssame for them." With that free hand, she reaches out to the broom handle and slides it out of the latch, hearing the commotion inside. She wonders if they noticed the soft scraping. Then looking to Ras, she nods her head. While they may not be entering the room for a 'fight' exactly, their rules of engagement are very different from the gremlins. "On three... two... one..." Taking hold of one of the doors, the nagaji heaves while slithering back a bit to clear its swing. As soon the flaming burst follows from Ras, she slides in along the southern wall and starts ringing her bell as loud as possible.

Kjersti Volden AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9 HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 0/3 | Perception: +7 ConditionsNone "Ain't no 'mount of polish can mend a rotten core," Kjersti murmurs quietly at Temperance's description of Westcrown. It's a name she's heard only a few times in her life, and knows next to nothing of the place... until now. And it sounds terrible. She watches the crack form in her friend's composed demeanor, a million things seen and done and experienced that she can only imagine, now pressing at the opening. Her instinct is to reach across the table, create a strong and solid connection to hold tight to but she's not sure that's what she wants. Rather, she watches her close her eyes and speak what is maybe like a mantra to herself. "I'm glad you got away from that place." The words feel hollow, despite how much she means it. There is no volume of consolation or affirmation that can right the wrongs that have been done to Temperance. They will be her burden to bear forever... but that doesn't mean she has to do it alone. "An' I'm sorry for it happenin'. Feels like our corner of the world is all gone to Hell, whichever where you look." Her bright blue eyes turn down to the mostly-gone cocoa as if better answers or better solutions will present themselves in the dark ripples. There aren't any rural anecdotes in her back pocket that come anywhere near this depth of pain. Not that backwards anecdotes from the rural counties are what anyone wants to hear... "I reckon... sounds like we got a little of the same kinda fire tryin'a burn us from inside. Y'seen it in me..." A finger unconsciously raises to brush against the thin line bisecting her brow. "...I seen it in you. Maybe why y'chose your name?" Asking the meaning behind a nephilim's name was surely deeply personal, but she still risks that ire. "For what it's worth... y'done a whole lotta good in this place, whether you felt it was or no. For the Nursery, for the Jills, for Korva and her sisters... for me..." She looks up and smiles faintly.