[hr][hr]



[center][h2]Goodnight[/h2]

[img]https://i1.wp.com/freaktography.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/DSC0038.jpg?ssl=1[/img]

[h3] The [color=violet]Chapel[/color] [/h3][/center]

[hr][hr]

The chapel at Goodnight was a frequently overlooked space, being a fairly obscure and out of the way room that you could only get to through the disused and often-overgrown employee corridors hidden behind the wall panels of the commercial space - and the depression that the new mages were sinking into wasn’t exactly helping their motivation with regards to any religious obligations they might’ve had; if it wasn’t something they could do without climbing three flights of stairs and nearly getting lost in the maze behind Goodnight’s broken facade, it wasn’t something they were easily gonna do.

Of course, there were exceptions - indeed, now you were one of them.

Whether it was your idea or just something you got roped into, you found yourselves headed up towards the old manager’s office, replete with rotten blinds and greyed, decaying wood flooring, a dozen or so plastic chairs that were normally arranged like makeshift church pews, now rearranged in a small circle, crowding up the space of the room. The far side of the room - which was surprisingly big for a simple middle manager - held a great oaken desk, brought low by the ravages of time and finally repurposed as an altar, candles and all. A few prayer mats, rolled up and tucked away in the corner, completed the image.

A place for everyone to pray, left empty to gather dust in the face of the ultimate crisis of the faith.

When you got there, though, there were a couple of people already there. 

Immediately visible because he took the back seat closest to the door was Brooks, arms folded and staring ahead. The glint of his pistol in its holster was a jarring contrast to the place of worship. Sat next to him was the military-esque woman from earlier. She looked over her shoulder at your approach - to have made it to the chapel before you she must have made a beeline from dealing with the unruly mage straight to the chapel. On the far side of the room sat Billy, talking quietly to a tall, skinny, darkly tanned bearded man holding what looked like a pocket Bible resting on his knee.

As you entered, the man with the copper skin laid a gentle hand on Billy's shoulder to shush him, and stood up to greet you.

"Hey hey, come in, take a seat. My name is Dr Chris Cassar. Don't worry, I'm not a psychiatrist." He added, with a soft smile and a faint accent. Spanish or Italian, maybe.

As he stood up, Billy stood up alongside him, looking between the Doctor and the newcomers with clear admiration for the former. 

"I may have met some of you before, please forgive me if I've forgotten your names," he continued, taking a step forward to start shaking people's hands as they came through the door, "I'm one of the doctors here, so I see quite a lot of faces every day. We were very grateful for your work a fortnight ago, and I just wanted to thank you again, in person this time."

[hr][hr]