And Then We Broke Into The Temple

[nothinglikefather]

WHO: Jacob Frye nothinglikefather , Lan Wangji downswing , Jon Snow northerndragon , Merrin nochnaya ,  Wrathion blackscales  and Beitang Moran beitangmoran 
WHEN: The night after the senator's debate
WHERE: The Temple of the Chained God
WHAT: Breaking into a temple to check on their best buddy Caius Justus
WARNINGS: Violence. Swearing. Making a bad situation worse maybe?


It's dark as they enter the Holy complex of temples. It's the first time Jacob's ventured here, as he's had no need to before. He doesn't know what he expected, something more like the churches at home he supposes, but these buildings are nothing like that. It isn't just the appearance of them, it's something in the atmosphere too. The moon is scarcely more than a sliver of silver high above, yet the marble buildings shine. It's eerie, truthfully, how still and silent the place is. 


But there are still enough shadows to hide in, and Jacob sticks to them until they are close enough to the great doors of the Chained Ones sanctuary. It's clearly the oldest and the grandest of all the holy buildings here, well used and well maintained, looking over the others. He doesn't know why other temples were allowed around this one, surely Gods don't want to share? But maybe he's thinking like a foreigner again. 


He signals for the little group to stop, turning to the others. He doesn't know most, and part of him thinks he shouldn't trust them, but that's not an option here. They have to trust each other. otherwise no one is getting home, and the shit hits the windmill here. So trust it is. At least he's seen a couple of them fight. 

"Wrathion, Mr Snow. If it all starts going to hell in a hand cart, you get out of here." He says, grinning despite the words. "Right, are the rest of us ready to go in?" 

Comments

[blackscales]

"And miss all the fun? Surely not."

Wrathion, for the occasion, has promised a distraction -- and a distraction he will create. Just in case anyone happens to come past, or just in case something interesting happens in the temple which might draw the eye normally. There's a woman a short distance away, waiting for his signal. She will, on cue, begin to break down in the ugliest, noisiest fit of crying possible. He will, of course, heroically go to console her. Alas, her husband has passed, she is inconsolable. It's an excellent way to get a free drink (sometimes even a free meal) and just so happens to serve their purpose well too. She really is top notch.

"When you're ready," he says, and moves away ready to signa her.

[beitangmoran]

Moran has been tipped off that some sort of commotion is supposed to happen outside, and he has cleared access to a rather inconspicuous side door on the outside while hiding it inside with a few strategically placed crates, and sending the nearby servants to clear an inadvertent tea spill in his rooms.

As soon as he hears the woman wailing, he'll push the door open a fraction and leave a block of wood to keep it open, while absconding to a nearby corridor himself to make sure no one passing by sees the little group slipping in.

He can go and set things right again once they are on their way.

[nochnaya]

Merrin hasn't even been here a month, just like all the others in their group, and already she's tired of all the deception, politics, and petty treachery of this place. She wants the truth, and this seems like the most direct way to get it.

So she nods her head to indicate she's ready and then soundlessly slips in through the opened side door, setting the block of wood aside and closing the door behind her. There's no one inside, the room empty and quiet. As she passes by Moran, she inclines her head towards him in wordless thanks for the assist.

She has spells for invisibility, silence, and teleportation, ones she'd offered to everyone in their little infiltration group. They take a little bit of effort to cast and maintain, so she doesn't apply any magick to herself just yet, but still—they're going to need all the help they can get, magickal or otherwise.

[nothinglikefather]

Wrathion knows his business, and his dedication to the suffering widows, orphans and veterans of Ephes can not be questioned, in return, he can probably arrange a chorus of orphans to start picking pockets in the streets or a parade of veterans to dance down the main road. Whatever it is, Jacob trusts it will work. Just as he trusts Mr Snow will keep his colleagues in the Watch on a tight leash.

So in they go, Merrin taking the lead. Jacob pulls the hood of his robe up over his head, not only for a little extra concealment, but all the statues of pious people around here seem to have some sort of covering over their heads, and if they want to be taken for worshipers, they need to look the part.

He nods to Moran, the man unknown to him but he assumes an associate or at least a countryman of Lan Wangji and Wen Kexing, and then in the same low voice asks him, "Where would Justus be?"

[beitangmoran]

"I can't tell you where exactly at this moment, but your best bet is to go towards the inner sanctum. This way. He hasn't been seen outside of it for days."

One look up and down at all of them. They don't look extremely inconspicuous, but...

"I will try to keep the servants out of your way, but if you cross paths with any of them, your best chance of passing them by with no trouble is simply to act as if you have every right to be there. In an emergency, give them my name and say you are my guests. It should buy you enough time to slip away."

Assume he's outside until/unless you need him!

[blackscales]

The wailing begins on cue. Wrathion (devout supporter of widows, orphans, and veterans) appears from the shadows to offer his sympathies on cue. Oh, but what is the matter? Oh, this poor woman!

She collapses to her knees, dramatically, and clutches his hands. Her husband, taken from her! She is so alone!

It is quite the spectacle, and certainly enough to make sure people are either staring at them or hurrying onwards away from them so as to not be drawn into whatever this fit of hysterics is.

[nochnaya]

The wailing widow distraction, the inside man—it's like they've all done this before. Merrin pulls the hood of her jacket up as well, covering her distinctive silver-gray hair and casting her face in half-shadow.

"Thank you," she says to Moran—he's also unknown to her, but if he's willing to risk dropping his real name to anyone who catches them...

Then she turns to Jacob and asks, "How is your acting?"

She's not much of an actor herself—not for lack of skill, really, but mostly for lack of committment—but she can be intimidating as hell. And she has a mean sabacc face, for whatever that's worth. Which may or may not be the ideal way to go, so Jacob might have to handle any servants they might come across.

[nothinglikefather]

Jacob is grateful- getting in without the assistance could have happened, either with his skill or Merrin's powers, but that could have caused problems. He can get himself into difficulty sneaking around, especially if there are witnesses, and he's never tried being truly invisible before. Who knows what problems that could cause.

So this is better, all in all.

Her question makes him shrug- he's not the best actor, but depending on the servants or guards they run into, good acting might not be required. They'll have to see.

"We'll name drop if we have to. Fingers crossed they won't bother us. Let's go." He murmurs, intending to head the way Moran has indicated and get to the sanctuary as soon as they can.

[nochnaya]

Sounds like they're winging it. Which Merrin isn't opposed to at all—if anything, experience with the Mantis crew has taught her that even the best-laid plans often go awry. If they have to lie, then they lie. If they have to fight, then they fight. She's adaptable.

So off they go. As she follows Jacob in the direction of the sanctuary, she asks in a low voice, "Fingers crossed? Why are you crossing your fingers?"

They should probably be focusing on their mission. Probably. But she hasn't heard that expression before—she may have grown up a bit sheltered—and she's nothing if not curious.

[nothinglikefather]

Jacob's style is entirely winging it. He goes in with a job to do, a target to kill or a piece of information to gather, and he works out how to do it as he goes. It works for the most part. His sister is the one who plans every little detail. It doesn't stop things going wrong.

The question is unexpected, but her turns his head to look at her- what part of her face is visible under her hood, and he wonders if the language she speaks doesn't have a similar phrase, which is why the communication device he wears has translated it verbatim.

"It means with luck. Don't have any idea what it has to do with fingers honestly."

There's not much sound in the temple above their steps and their voices, it's unpleasant- but the building is not empty. There's a number of people around if his senses can be trusted. They are simply not interested in the strangers in their midst.

"If we behave and act like devotees we shouldn't get stopped."

[nochnaya]

She's not sure what to do with the fact that he doesn't know what luck has to do with crossed fingers either, but hey, she got an answer to her question. It's not the first time she's come across a phrase in Basic she doesn't recognize, and it probably won't be the last, even after all this time.

"You and me both," she says, leaving the discussion at that. If they weren't currently sneaking into a temple, maybe she'd question it further.

But since they are currently sneaking into a temple, she looks around with sharp eyes, surveying their surroundings and the various guards, worshippers, priests and priestesses populating the place. Many of the latter appear to be carrying out rites of prayer, consuming... something... or self-flagellating with thick, heavy chains.

Dryly, she replies, "Not too devoted, I hope."

[nothinglikefather]

The origins of so many phrases is lost to time. He's never really thought about it, and he isn't actually thinking about it now, too busy doing just as she is- watching the other people, their fellow worshippers- and measuring them up.

He does wince as the shirtless man whips the length of chain across his flesh. From the state of his skin, the dark bruises already apparent, this is a common sight.

"No, the Chained One doesn't favour your or I so highly." He says in just above a whisper, looking back to her. He'd like to say nutcases but doesn't want to be overheard.

"Anything like that where you're from?" He mutters as soon as they're out of earshot.

[nochnaya]

"A shame." The words are correct, in case someone is able to hear them, but the tone is utterly deadpan. Merrin has seen a lot of strange and horrifying things in her travels across the galaxy, including cruelty beyond measure, and all of this reminds her of those who hurt themselves for the nebulous promise of a better life.

The hurt, in this case, is literal and physical. But it's unbelievable what hope and faith and fear can do.

"In spirit, perhaps," she says. "Have you?"

Moran had pointed them in the direction of the inner sanctum which, she assumes, means it's at the very center of the temple. She'd scouted around the place weeks ago, just to get an idea of where Caius was holed up, and she uses her mental map now to keep heading inwards.

[nothinglikefather]

He tries not to make any sound at all when she replies, but the deadpan delivery leaves him pressing his lips firmly together, just about keeping the laughter back. Thankfully, it seems no one outside of their little group notices, and he turns it into a cough instead.

"Heard of it, but it's probably stories." He says, remembering tales of people in foreign lands laying on beds of nails and walking over red-hot coals. "My countrymen aren't very kind about the beliefs of others. They make up a lot of things to make us sound civialised."

When actually, they're anything but.

Thank goodness they're coming to the middle of the temple though, and grand, tall doors seem to block the way of anyone who seeks entry. A thick wooden bar rests over the pair, but there's no other lock as far as he can tell. With a nod to his companions, signalling for their help, he moves forward to lift it free.

[nochnaya]

The barely-concealed-laugh-cough earns him an amused sideways glance, her expression just as flat as her tone but her eyes shining with mirth, crinkled a little around the corners. She's pleased—not everyone appreciates her dry sense of humor.

"Many people fear what they do not understand," she says, thinking of the fear she faces often when he uses her Nightsister magicks—not that it bothers her. Or stops her. If anything, she uses it to her advantage where she can. If she is to be feared, then so be it.

Speaking of magick, she glances around to make sure they're alone and gestures for Jacob to step away from the wooden beam. "Allow me."

Much as she appreciates the enthusiasm, so just doesn't do physical labor where magick will do. With a wave of her hand, bright green ichor envelops the bar and telekinetically lifts it up and away from the doors, before quietly setting it aside.

[nothinglikefather]

"There's a lot of things we don't understand," Jacob says, "If we went 'round being scared of it all, then we wouldn't get much else done." Fear can be useful, Jacob has used it himself. But he doesn't actually want normal people to be frightened of him, but that's not always how it works.

He stops when she speaks up, frowning slightly and stepping back, not sure what she's about to do- but she said she had power, he's just not seen it yet. The green light that flows around the beam seems unnatural, but the woman acts like it's the most natural thing she's ever done.

And it works! Incredibly, without them having to do any real physical work, the doors are there, ready to be pushed open, and so, glancing back at his companions, he does so. The doors are heavy and thick, but the hinges are well-tended. He pushes, and the door to the sanctuary swings open.