Unfamiliar Places
Unfamiliar Places
Summary: In the downtime between missions, Thorn comes across Samantha heading to the chapel.
Date: PHD134
Related Logs: A Cubit Short logs

Samantha was a whole hell of a lot of talk for most of this thing. Attempted jokes, lipping off to Rebound when he love tapped her, calling the toasters they downed in the cargo bay 'bitches'… it was her usual attitude. But now it's over. Now the processing of just everything that happened is slowly streaming through her head. Now the numbnmess, and horror, and quiet misery kicks in. She tried to get into sick bay but it was too damn crowded. No non-essential personel. So she started walking… numb, features strangely, utterly dead, almost zombie-fied, as it were. She didn't know where her feet were taking her… but soon she's crossing the threshold of the Chapel. Her feet have taken her back to Artemis…where she always returns…

It's doubtful Thorn has even seen the interior of Kharon's chapel. Despite everything he's seen tonight, he still had no inclination to break that streak… but that was before he noticed a numb-looking Samantha trudging through the corridor towards this very room. Thus, here he is. He reluctantly crosses the threshold, stopping just inside the entrance to the chapel; steeling himself, he begins shuffling quietly down the aisle, towards Samantha's shoulder-slumped form.

Samantha doesn't even realize he's there. She just keeps walking forward, almost moving on instinct alone now… straight to the area on the floor before Artemis. She takes no bench, she just kneels there, flight-suit clad knees direct to the floor, head down. That's when the real tears start coming. Artemis watched over her. hopefully all of them… and all she's done recently is damn the godess…"..Oh… Artemis… I have sinned…" The ache in her voice is palpable.

Thorn stops after a few more steps as he watches Sam sink to her knees in front of the altar. His face is pale, and he watches her with a look of apprehensive sadness as the tears begin to flow. He waits for a few moments, giving her her space… but then he feels his feet carrying him forward, stopping a few steps behind her as a hand brushes lightly against her shoulder.

Samantha doesn't exactly stiffen as she feels his hand against her shoulder, but there is a slight catch of her breath and a new shift of her muscles beneath his hand as he stands behind her. She doesn't look up yet, though, murmuring a few ancient words. A Gemenese prayer… straight out of the book of Kobol. Barefaced sorrow… both gratitude and quiet pleading for forgiveness. Her voice crackles a few times mid prayer, but she gets through it all.

Thorn looks down at the back of Samantha's head, obvious concern in his eyes. As she continues to pray, Anton mutters a few words of his own in Mierce. The words somehow manage to sound harsh and beautiful at the same time, although the former is likely as much due to the man's gravelly accent than anything else. It might have been a prayer — not that Thorn is likely to admit it if it is. Finally, as both of them fall silent once again, he addresses her. "Hey. You alright?"

Samantha nods quietly, "Yeah… sore… but that's from… frakkig rebound. Wasn't touched…otherwise." Sam admits, her mind going to the safe place — physicality. Because yes, physically, she's totally fine. Mentally, she has no clue how to answer. So she gives the answer she knows. She sinks back, buttocks on her heels… still in her suit, sweat plastering her hair to ehr forehead… skin a wee bit pale but not from injury.

"I didn't ask if you were hurt," comes Thorn's clipped reply. He sinks down beside her, kneeling awkwardly. A hand moves up to his forehead, brushing away several beads of sweat of his own. Komnenos exhales, going silent for a moment as he runs a hand slowly through sweat-damp hair. "I'm not blind. Talk t' me."

Samantha blinks against stinging in her eyes. POssibly sweat, but probably tears. She swallows back tightly. "…What the hell. I…don't know. You'd think I'd be used to this by now." But she's never seen Martin nearly die before… and while she's talking to her new flame, it doesn't mean she doesn't still care about the guy… not to mention the fact that somehow she's unscathed and she isn't even sure how that happens.

"I'm… not sure it's ever something you get used t'," Anton replies after a second. "If it was, we'd all be emotionless zombies by now." Thorn's particular brand of wisdom benefits from being concise and practical, but it's likely cold comfort. He goes quiet again, searching for words. "It's… not easy. Worse, almost, t' see th' ones you care about getting shot up rather than yourself." Thorn doesn't mention Martin by name, though it's not hard after a moment for him to guess what the main source of her distress is. "Look, if you'd rather be alone…" Komnenos prepares to stand, eyes flicking from Samantha to the altar and back.

Samantha shakes her head quietly, reaching out almost immediately, her fingertips clamping down over his hand, hand cool and clammy against his skin. She just holds on tight. "No… stay… unless you want to go. Stay." She breathes out slowly, shakily, her body leaning a bit against him now as they remain knelt in front of the altar.

Anton is just about to stand and go for the ignominious retreat when he feels something grab his hand. Startled, he looks down; her hand is clutching his tightly. Nodding slowly, he stays put. "Sure." Not sure what else to say at the moment, he remains quiet, letting her lean to her heart's content.

Samantha slowly looks up to the altar, breathing through her nose, staring at Artemis' beautiful, still reflecting. "Do…you believe, Anton?" She finally inquires, rather a miserable question to ask but one she almost needs to right now. Especially since she's back here after months of being missing from the chapel…and years of heresy.

"That's… complicated," Komnenos responds after a moment's consideration. "Yeah, I suppose I do. We're not on speaking terms, the Lords and I, but yeah, I believe. Mostly." It's… maybe not the answer she wanted, but it is an honest one. He exhales softly, leaving it simply at that as he looks over at her while she stares at Artemis' statue.

Samantha frowns a moment at those words, just a touch of confusion crossing her brow. She looks up to his gaze, studying… the strange answer at least offering a bit of a comforting distraction. "… I was that way… a long time. Maybe it's easier. Why… what made you stop talking?" She asks, an earnest bit of curious concern in her raw voice.

Thorn sighs at the question; it's a barely audible sound, but noticeable nonetheless in these close quarters. "They made me angry," he offers simply, shrugging his shoulders. "I wondered th' last couple of years whether gods that were truly good would really allow humanity t' do t' itself what it's done. Th' holocaust didn't exactly change that perception. As far as I was concerned, the gods weren't worthy of my veneration." He hesitates. "There… may have been an act or two of blasphemy involved, as well," Thorn volunteers in a mumble after a second.

Samantha nods faintly, giving a weak smile. "Yeah…that sounds pretty much like my thinking. And yet…here I am. I keep coming back…when shit was hard at the academy…I kept coming back… tried to throw my statue of Artemis out after the holocaust. It kept coming back… I don't know…" She whispers, still leaning against him, body almost dead weight, most of the strength sapped from her now.

Thorn slips an arm around her, as much to help support her weight as for the feeling of contact. "I can count on one hand th' number of times I've been in a chapel in th' past decade," he says quietly. "I haven't actually been to a service… well, probably in the past two." "Paid lip service t' Apollo and a couple of the minor Lords… Hecate mostly… but Athena was the family patron." A bitter smile creeps onto the man's face. "The dead goddess. Something about that just seems ironic."

Samantha relaxes, just a bit deeper, as his arm secures itself around her shoulders. It felt good, or at least a little more right than when he wasn't there in this moment. She breathes out, shakey and weak, definitely a different side of Samantha than he's possibly ever seen, but it's been a long week. "…too late to try again, eh?…we should probably…both go. I don't know why I came here.."

"Probably," Thorn replies with a slow nod. That just as easily could be an answer to the question or an agreement about leaving. He's probably not terribly comfortable being here, even if he wouldn't tell her that. As for her possible motivations for coming, Komnenos says nothing. He simply gets up, offering a hand to her as he stands.

Samantha stands slowly, accepting the help. She gets to her feet, slow but a bit more steady, letting him lead the way to where ever he likes… "…I…feel like I should go to sickbay. Have you heard…about any of them?" She asks quietly…

"No," Thorn replies succinctly. Her hand in his, he begins walking slowly to the exit of the chapel. He shrugs. "Not a thing. I'm pretty sure SAR found everyone who got shot up out there, but…" There's another helpless shrug of the shoulders as he walks. "If you want t' go and check, I'll catch up with you," he adds quietly. "But I have t' get back t' the mess and mind the civvies."

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