The Will To Live (Sanctuary)

[Nora Saint-Clair]

Nora did what she could among the people sheltering in the Sanctuary. At first she tried to stand a little straighter, to summon that  calm Brotherhood presence Seraphis always spoke of. She tried to talk about  balance and inner flame and of weathering storms both without and within. She even quoted a passage or two from the Codex she had dutifully memorized, but no one listened.

The storm dominated every conversation. Wind speeds. Road closures. Power grids flickering across outer districts. Messages from loved ones.  So she stopped preaching. Instead, she moved from cluster to cluster, asking who needed tea, who had heard from family, who needed a blanket. She listened more than she spoke. When someone’s voice broke mid-sentence, she placed a hand lightly at their shoulder, though she never quite knew what words ought to follow. Comfort, she was learning, was less about saying the right thing and more about not leaving.

Still, tension hummed in the hall like a wire drawn too tight. That was when the idea came to her. Perhaps some of those endless meditations and breathing exercises might serve a purpose after all.

“Would anyone care to try something calming?” she asked a small group near the far wall. “A sound bath. Just to settle the nerves. It’ll give you something to pass the time anyway.”

The term caught a few curious looks. Curiosity, at least, was better than indifference. Within minutes she had gathered a grand total of five people seated awkwardly on cushions she hastily borrowed from one of the smaller practice rooms. The Sanctuary kept crystal singing bowls for formal sessions, arranged on low stands in ascending size. Nora had seen them used dozens of times, but she had never led one.

The bowls shimmered, made of clear quartz, each tuned to a different note. They looked fragile, though she knew they were not, and some were obscenely heavy. She arranged them in what she hoped was the proper order, trying to recall which size corresponded to which tone.

Nora picked up the suede mallet and hesitated.

“Well,” she began, offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile, “just… close your eyes.”

They obeyed, some more skeptically than others. She drew the mallet along the rim of the largest bowl.

The sound that emerged wavered thin and uncertain at first. Nora winced inwardly and adjusted her pressure, remembering to let the tone build rather than force it. The vibration deepened, growing fuller, until the note filled the air.

She moved to the next bowl. This one gave a brighter tone, almost too sharp at first. She softened her hand and slowed her breath. Inhale and exhale. Let the sound bloom instead of chasing it.

Around her, some shoulders began to lower. One woman’s tightly clasped hands loosened in her lap. A man who had been tapping his foot stilled without seeming to realize it.

Encouraged, Nora let the tones overlap. She had no grand understanding of harmonic theory and no elegant script to follow. She simply remembered how the sound had once felt when she had been seated among others, how it had pressed gently against the inside of her ribs and reminded her she possessed lungs.

So she breathed, and let the bowls answer. There were moments when the mallet slipped slightly or the note broke unevenly, and her heart jumped each time, certain she had ruined the effect.

When at last she allowed the final note to fade, the silence that followed felt different from the one before. There were a few nods of appreciation after.

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “Just… sound.”

[Quillon Hawke]

“Welcome,” he said, offering Penny a nod before leaving her to the rest she clearly needed. He stopped briefly to check on Anita, lingering only long enough to reassure himself that she was stable, and then made his way back into the Sanctuary proper.

It was even busier than before. The storm had intensified. Snow hammered against the windows so thickly that the outside world had vanished entirely, the glass now nothing more than pale, shifting panels of white. The building felt sealed off, cut loose from the city. Inside, voices overlapped in low waves: worried, restless, searching for information that no one truly possessed.

He spotted Nora weaving through clusters of people, speaking earnestly, trying to soothe what could not be controlled. For a moment he considered joining her, but the Luminar had left him in charge. The weight of that instruction pressed uncomfortably at the back of his mind. Being in charge sounded decisive. It felt, in practice, like standing in the center of a room without knowing which fire to put out first.

So he moved. He began with the doors. The outer entrance resisted when he tested it, the wind pushing hard enough from the other side to make the frame groan. When he forced it open a few inches, snow immediately spilled through the gap. Drifts had risen nearly to waist height already, packed dense and unforgiving. Another hour and the doors might not open at all.

He shut them firmly and slid the locks into place. For a moment he stood there, hand resting on cold metal, wondering whether that was the correct decision. Leaving them accessible invited chaos. Sealing them invited risk. In the end he chose the certainty of control and hoped the mounting pressure outside would not compromise the structure itself.

From there he made his way to the security room. The monitors showed blankets lay draped over chairs. People sitting against walls. Children clinging to parents. Nothing appeared immediately wrong, yet the sheer number of people made his chest tighten. If something did go wrong, he had no clear plan for how to manage it.

He studied the feeds longer than necessary, as though vigilance alone might substitute for strategy. When he finally stepped back into the corridor, he paused beside the elevator. His gaze lifted toward the upper levels, toward the Luminar’s atrium. Part of him considered ascending, seeking guidance, confirmation, anything that resembled instruction. Yet even with command nominally placed in his hands, he doubted he truly had access. Authority, he was discovering, was not the same as permission.

After a moment’s hesitation, he turned away. He returned to the main Sanctuary floor, scanning the restless crowd with a growing awareness of practical needs. The storm showed no sign of relenting. People would need food soon. Tempers would fray long before the snow stopped falling as soon as people began to get uncomfortable not to mention deeply afraid.

Quillon clasped his hands behind his back, attempting the posture of a man who understood exactly what came next. In truth, he had never felt more idle.

[Penny]

Penny put down her wallet. She loved to read, but she had so much going through her head. Reading wasn't working as a distraction.  She didn't really feel sleepy either. Penny sighed and looked around the room. She smiled as she found a plant on Quillion's bedside table.  She picked up the plant and looked at it. It was a cylindar shaped cactus with a pink flower on top.

"Echinocereus rigidissimus," she said, quietly. "More commonly known as the rainbow hedgehog cactus."

She hadn't expected Quillion to be one to have plants, but the cute, prickly plant seemed to fit him. Penny frowned a bit at it.  The flower was looking a little peckish. She felt the soil, still moist, but not overly wet. Cacti would good for people who were bad with plants because they didn't require a lot of attention. It wouldn't need to be watered for awhile. What then had caused the slight wilting. It came to her quickly. A desert plant in the middle of a Moscow winter. The little one needed sunlight. She would have to suggest a sun lamp to Quillion. For now though, she sang softly to the plant. It was a simple melody and the flower seemed to perk a bit at her voice. The color even seemed a little more vibrant. She didn't know how it worked, but it wasn't that unusual. She felt something within her - a pleased feeling almost as if the small plant was thanking her.

"You're very welcome," she said, setting it back down in its place.

Penny then stood. She was impatient. Sleep wasn't going to happen. She grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around herself before leaving the room. She went in the other two see how Anita was doing. She hadn't even gotten under a blanket. She was just lying on top of it in a deep sleep.  Penny grabbed the blanket from the side and covered Anita as best as she could before heading down stairs.

She found the main hall quickly and looked at the people there. There were quite a bit there. The thing that caught her attention the most were families. Moms and dads held their kids close. Penny felt the pain of loss and walked away for a bit. She sat down next to the wall. "I wish I had a family," she said, voicing her deepest desire out loud.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear," a voice said. Penny stood, the unexpected sound scaring her. A man stood there - not ugly, but neither was he attractive.  He had the face of one easily lost in a crowd. He raised his hands to show he wasn't a threat. "Apologies. I didn't mean to frighten you. You don't have a family?"

It had been a long time since Penny had heard the words, but every kid learned about "Stranger Danger." She was on edge, but found herself unable to move. Her dad - she had her dad, but no way to find him. "My dad - don't know where he is though. I never met him." Penny took a step back.

"I also lost my family when I was younger. I know how hard that can be, but if you have a dad - you still have a family. And maybe he has more kids. Maybe you have brothers and sisters too. Wouldn't that be nice? he smiled a disarming smile. "I could help you find them if you wish."

He was saying the right things. He didn't seem to be threatening, but he was offering her what she wanted. She had gone to the internet to ask for help. It seemed perfect. It seemed...wrong.

Penny's hackles rose.  She didn't answer the man's question. She just backed away, not turning her back on the man. He didn't move to follow her.  She headed into the main room, turned around and began to walk faster. She looked over her shoulder. The man was now leaning on the door frame. He wasn't looking at her, his eyes searched the crowd and when they passed over Penny, she shivered. She wasn't cold.  She was afraid. Her speed picked up and she turned around again, not wanting to turn her back on the man. He was gone. Her eyes searched the crowd, but the man was unremarkable. She couldn't find him.

Penny stopped when she felt herself back into a body.  She jumped and let out a short scream, taking a few steps away from whoever she had run into.  Whereas the man had been unremarkable and almost boring looking, the woman in front of Penny was the opposite.  She was beautiful. Penny took a couple of steps back.  She was still shivering in fear.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she said, apologizing to the woman, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice. The people around the woman were looking at her concerned. Penny pulled the blanket around her tighter. She was terrified.

[[OoC: The woman she runs into is Nora]]

[Nora Saint-Clair]

Nora finished putting the bowls back in their case. The sound bath was fine, but there was only so long that she could sit and stroke bowls without either falling asleep herself or wanting to pull her hair out. The pressure to distract and entertain the people in the Sanctuary was mounting, but as she walked among them, she realized most were glued to their news feeds anyway. One story caught her eye, and she paused to watch someone who graciously tilted their device for her viewing. The outer city roads were being closed, it said, and people were instructed to avoid travel and shelter in whatever place they were located. 

Done, I suppose. She thought, looking around. Nobody was leaving anytime soon. How much longer was it going to keep snowing? She asked a few people, but every time she asked she was told a different answer. It might take half a day to get the roads reopened even if it magically stopped snowing this very minute. They all needed to get cozy together.

She was going to look for Quillon when someone bumped into her. It was the girl from earlier, she recognized, only to immediately see that something is wrong. 

"Hey, it's you. You're up." She looked her over, trembling and huddling her blanket close and Nora's expression shifted. "Sorry, you don't know me, but I work here with Quillon. He took good care of you I hope? Um, are you okay?"

[Penny]

The woman was kind. That was the first thing that came into her head. She offered to help as the creepy man had, but unlike that, this didn’t feel off. Mentioning Quillion by name helped with that. Penny took a deep breath to calm down before she responded. First to her question about Quillion.

”Yeah - he got me warmed up. Use the…what was the word…veil.” Penny turned to look towards where she came from. ”I was over there, just thinking about how I wish I could find my dad - and a guy started saying he could help me find him. I don’t know - it was creepy and scary. It all just felt…wrong…”

Penny sighed and looked up at the woman. ”Maybe I’m overreacting, but no I don’t think I am!” she moved a step closer. ”Anyways - you work with Quillion - are you Nora or Callie? Quillion said he wanted me to talk with one of you - because of the warm light…I mean the veil…”

[Nora Saint-Clair]

Nora cringed at Penny's story about the stranger. "Okay that's a little creepy, but I'm sure it was just good intentions coming across wrong." 

Lie. 

People were sick. 

She'd keep an eye out for creeps. "But if you see him again, point him out to me just in case." She tried to sound like it was no big deal. No point scaring the poor girl. 

"But yeah, I'm Nora. I'm not nearly as good at this stuff as Callie, so I'm sorry you're stuck with me." A wink came with her smile, obviously self-teasing. "You hungry? I was going to check on the kitchens. I could use some help. And we can talk Veil stuff if you want." 

[Penny]

”I’m Penny,” she said as her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since before the house had collapsed. ”And I think food is a good idea.”

Penny let Nora lead the way. This was, after all, her home, or at least she knew where she was going. It was on that walk that she felt a sharp pain in her chest. It was the same pain she had felt on and off since the collapse. The pain of loss. Emotions flooded in her, but she was surprised that the strongest was anger and jealousy. Seeing the families out in the sanctuary had brought it on. The jealousy led to guilt.

Penny reached out a hand and grabbed Nora’s sleeve hard enough to signal the need for a stop. This corridor was quiet and Penny could feel the need to talk and vent before everything within her exploded. ”Nora…I need to talk.”

Penny looked down at the ground and when she started, everything just started to flow out. ”Mom’s…gone…since our house collapsed. Anita and her crew got me out brought me here. Almost didn’t make it if it wasn’t for the warm light. As we were getting closer it made a path rough the snow to the door. And…my dad…I never met him, but he’s out there and I don’t know where. And…since mom is… her voice hitched. Saying the word would make it more real than ever. ”Dead. I’m all alone now and I don’t know what going to happen to me. Quillion said maybe one of the medics did it, but it was me. The warm light was inside and even if I can’t find it again, I know it was me. And…I know there are people out there who think I shouldn’t exist and what if they find me. I’m…” she looked at Nora, her eyes wide. ”Im hurting. Sad, angry, jealous, guilty, scared, and lonely and confused. Nora…this has been the worst day of my life.” it wasn’t hyperbole.

Penny was breathing heavy when she finished, and it had surprised her that she hadn’t cried, but saying the words had helped. She felt lighter if not less scared and confused. She looked away again, pink coating her cheeks in embarrassment. ”Thanks for listening to that - it still hurts, but feels less intense. It’s just…I don’t know what’s going to happen to me now.

[Nora Saint-Clair]

They were part way to the kitchen when Penny pulled her aside. Nora was pretty focused on the task at hand, but once she glimpsed the look on Penny's face, they promptly diverted to chat somewhere private. 

Nora didn't interrupt Penny except to lay a comforting hand on the girl's arm, rubbing it gently. Nora grew up surrounded by a loving family, even if they fought, they were still close knit. Being a teenager was hard enough, but being without parents at Penny's age would have been impossible. Add on the pressure of sparking supernatural abilities and Nora would have lost her mind. 

"It's okay, come here," she said, and offered to give Penny a hug. There was little else that she could say in that moment, especially after the sting of the Atharim subtext.

[Penny]

Nora's arm was a comfort and the offer of a hug was a good one. Penny came closer and let Nora hug her. Her breath hitched a couple of times and even though tears fell, she didn't sob. In that moment, she at least didn't feel so alone. Penny let herself be held, not moving, feeling small and insignificant then. Nothing really mattered at that point. But everything was hitting her all at once. It was incredibly overwhelming. And when she needed help, she had always gone to her mom. And now she couldn't.

After a few moments, Penny simply said "I miss her." Nothing more needed to be said.

While they embraced, Penny thought through some things. She was a minor, which meant she was likely going to go into the system after this unless they could find her dad. Maybe he was on her birth certificate or maybe he'd take her, but if they couldn't she'd end up in an orphanage or foster home unless she got adopted. Probably not as likely with her being a teenager. Teens didn't get adopted as quickly.

Penny let go when she was ready, wiped her eyes and looked up at Nora. "Thanks Nora. That meant a lot. More than you know."

Penny sighed and took a moment to catch her breath. It had felt good to let it out like that. It still hurt deeply and there was still a weight in her chest that didn't seem to go away even if it lessened. But she had processed some things and it wasn't constantly growing. Her stomach growled again and that brought out a brief laugh. It wasn't really funny, but the laugh felt good. "I guess I should get something to eat. Let's keep going."

Penny let Nora lead to the kitchen. She knew there was work to be done and was willing to help. "What can I do to help? And maybe...tell me a bit about the veil. I want to learn to use it - if for no other reason than I won't accidently hurt someone...or get sick." She had heard that people like her got sick. She didn't mention that scared her even if it did. She probably didn't have to say it.