[h2][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0McRELVKCIs]Did You Fly to the End of the Rainbow, Father Joan?[/url][/center][/h2]

[color=a36209][i]--for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed be thou--

Ooof.[/i][/color]

An attack!

An attack! They would need to mobilize for--

--realization set in.

[color=a36209][i]No one else may handle this attacker.[/i][/color]

Once the momentary shock and panic of being torn from her prayers for forgiveness had worn off, Joan's conscious had reasserted itself, turned off amidst attempts at absolution and thoughts of the pirates provoked by Yatogami. Thoughts she had been forced to confront all at once, pointless queries as to the moral standing of those they had been fighting.

What if...what if they really had been praying?

There was no time to wonder. She was being attacked. And it seemed like Father Joan would be making a habit of taking first pick of all attackers.

[color=a36209][i]This one is mine.[/i][/color]

Two arms wrapped around the short, sweet mechanic, drawing her tightly into the priest's lap as Joan hugged for several seconds. Faint relief began to wash over her, as expected. Her breath stopped up once, choking, as though she were holding back a sob...but released again in due time without any (fallen) tears, and after that it grew consistently calmer.

[color=a36209]"Hi, munchkin,"[/color] Joan greeted with quiet affection. Her eyes weren't open. [color=a36209]"I'm okay, everyone. It was all just...quite sudden. Taxing, I'm afraid."[/color]

They opened up, emerald and clear - if, perhaps, a smidge watery. Her forehead pressed against Sasha's (oddly warm, feverish, the way it felt when Mackenzie was feeling devious and would pull the covers up over her head and lay in wait for Joan's arrival) and, as the tips of their noses touched, Joan got a good look at the mischievous blonde's face. 

The small trickle. 

[color=a36209]"I knew you were a tiny little thing. But to get in fights with your own tools..."[/color] A knuckle gently brushed away the tiny nosebleed from the mechanic's face, cauterized by the warm smile of [i]Jannah's[/i] chaplain. [color=a36209]"How many times have I told you to be careful of letting things go in zero gravity? You'll walk right into them."[/color]