Thread: Sisters of Heresy {The Interpid Wanderer n' ForeverM}

As if sudden motion, suddenly being forced upon waves, the pupils surrounded by a brown iris, shot in the direction of an approaching figure. However, the head didn't move, and remained nearly hidden away, among the long, chaotic, crimson locks of hair. The eyes soon calmed, observing the approaching woman with a gentle kindness, only obstructed by a few rebellious locks of hair. Sitting completely still, Amedea was almost fearful, that this beautiful woman approaching, was just to be another hard nail on her path. Another Sister there, to remind her how much the Comandry hadn't wanted a new Cannoness Commander. How they didn't need it, and that they already had several Sisters in the Commandry, well suited to be their new Cannoness. And how someone as young, and new to the Galaxy of war, would never be ready for the task at hand. That she should resign her position immediately, and let the better next, step up. Many had felt that way, that day. It hadn't been uttered directly, or on paper. But it had been whispered in the halls. In their eyes. Amedea saw that in others. Saw words, yet unspoken. Read sentences from lip, brow and cheek movements. Read minds, through eyes. She was obviously no Inquisitor, but had all the necessary instincts to become one. It just hadn't come through yet, nor did she have required experience in the field. And probably most important of all. She didn't exactly seek out to become one. But the longer Amedea watched the ivory-skinned woman, the more comfortable and pleasant did she feel. The woman showed no eagerness to tell Amedea off. Showed not the haste, that Amedea had escaped to the Chapel to avoid. She was calm. Tranquil. And with the first words spoken, Amedea's lips curled a smile, as her head tilted a bit, her chin still resting upon her arms, both wrapped around her legs, close pulled against herself. She was surprisingly agile and flexible, when outside the heavy battle armor. It wasn't usually a necessary feet of a Cannoness, their suits meant to withstand punishment, more then fleeting feet. Amedea stayed silent for a while, until the woman continued, and ultimately gazed upon her. Now that Therese was close, she'd see the warm, brown eyes, that had a light, almost undetectable, redish hint to them. The eyes that gazed back upon Amedea, made her feel a sense of security and calm, nothing else had offered her before. There was no hidden, and wicked agenda, behind the calm exterior of the woman and her words. It was just her, feeling exactly what Amedea did as well. So Amedea smiled, and rose her head lightly from her arms. She moved a hand to stroke the rebellious lock of hair, in front of her eyes, away and behind her ear. I would, dear Sister. She replied back, with a light voice, to match the young exterior of the woman that was Amedea. She then moved her gaze back upon the altar, her head tilting a bit to the other side, as her chin fell to rest upon her arms again. She chuckled a single time through her nose, before gazing back onto Therese, with a gentle smile. When I was little, he always kinda scared me. His statues, and alters.. I mean. They always seemed so large, and grim. She stated, causing her to giggle a bit, before turning her eyes back towards the altar. But now. I find refuge, in here. I admit, that I am not one to bring him most prayers, but.. I feel a sort of.. Comfort. In the embrace of his Chapels. She smiled, letting the side of her head, rest back upon her arms, eyes still pointed towards the altar. A comfort. I guess I seek here, because I don't find it anywhere else, on most days. Her voice almost dimmed to a whisper, with those words, as her smile seemed to crack and bend, turning crooked and unsure.