Only the Holy May Enter

[Kenneth Gilroy]

Kenneth pushed open the door to the Moore House. Very literally. He had to put his shoulder into the door to get it to budge. And what he found was scarcely better. There was barely enough room to move even in the great building. Only one or two rooms worth of space that wasn't taken up with debris or detritus.

"Hello," Gilroy called, his voice hardly echoing through the amount of decay around to soften his already softened and insectoid voice.

Kenneth pushed past the obsticles and deeper into the manor. Longstreet had been silent far too long. The Gand Ball had come and gone without so much as a whisper that Kenneth had heard.

"Hello?" he whimpered again. There had to be someone here.

[Robert Cross]

Longstreet is gone. Cross is convinced of that now. Like so many other members of their family, the Thug had simply vanished into the night. Leaving the rest of them to pick up whatever pieces they could.

In earlier nights, the Burned Man might've been angry. Now he simply gets back to work.

Which is what he's doing tonight. Tightening up security at the Moore House. Namely, repairing locks on both doors and windows. The place is still a mess, but to Cross's mind the first priority is making it safe.

The sounds of someone arriving are faint, but his heightened senses pick them out easily. The Burned Man freezes at his work (he'd been reattaching a door to its hinges in what used to be an ornate dining room), and looking in the direction of the house's entrance even though he's several rooms deep into the Manor.

Then comes Gilroy's voice.

"I'm back here," he calls out, putting down the screw driver and straightening to dust himself off. "The dining room."

[Kenneth Gilroy]

A voice echoes in response to Gilroy's question. A voice echoing with all the screams of dying in flames surrounded by smoke.

Or so the lsser mind thinks.

Kenneth recognizes it as belonging to Robert.

With one further hiss, the High Worm squeezes between the obstructions, back to where the Burned man hopefully will be.

"I'm guessing the Bishop isn't with you," he inquired as the the two Haunts came into view of one another "Or anywhere within the Domain." Kenneth couldn't imagine the church being in such a state without a Bishop. Though the sad fact was, he himself had left it such on his departure.

He stood, muscles twitch under pale skin. The High Worm already had an idea of where this was going.

[Robert Cross]

"Gone," is Cross's only response at first. There's a long moment where he only looks at the Worm, unblinking eyes taking in the other Haunt's appearance. The unspoken question: What now?

"He hasn't been in the Necropolis for weeks. Not sure what it means. Whether he left or..." He's ash. The Thug was never the easiest to get along with. The wrong word to the wrong people, even Breathers, might've been the end of him. And of course, there's always the Brood. Still, Cross would like to think that Longstreet had simply pulled up stakes.

"That means it's just us." Again. Or for the first time? Whatever.

"What brings you out here tonight? Looking for him?"

[Kenneth Gilroy]

Gilroy’s head bobbed when Robert confirmed the theory. There was a shuddering resignation or acceptance to the gesture. The Haunt’s neck cracked as he craned it to look around the Moore House. Considering the unasked question.

“Looking to confirm my assumptions. When a Gran Ballo wasn’t announced I was pretty sure Longstreet had departed or… was departed.” There was the option of incompetence but the Thug had if anything seemed… devout in his role as monster.

“And to assess whether the Moore House was still secure if that proved to be the case.” Which given that Robert was here seemed more than enough proof of that.

“So,” Gilroy blinked and for a moment the light made it seem like he had nictitating membranes “I suppose this means we need to reevaluate the church's standing, leadership, and goals."

[Robert Cross]

"Not clear which," Cross grunts. "Though he could take care of himself." He had to give the Thug that much credit. "Ask me? He left." Longstreet wasn't the first Haunt to blow town without so much as a farewell. Indeed, both Gilroy and Cross have done the same.

Cross gives Gilroy a nod of understanding when the issue of security comes up. "I've been working on that. Repairing locks, reinforcing some doors, windows. Not much, but it's a start." he glances at the door he'd been working on when the Worm arrived. "Figured it was best to tighten things up before we get to cleaning..."

The Burned Man had expected Gilroy's next conversational pivot. It's the logical thing: sort out the pecking order now that their roster has been diminished by one. "I agree. You want to walk and talk? Get a look at the state of things while we sort this out?" Cross gestures down a cluttered hallway with a scarred hand. Waiting for Gilroy to take the lead.

[Kenneth Gilroy]

At Robert’s invitation Kenneth took the lead. Ignoring the niggling voice in the back of his mind that warned against turning his back on even a dead ember.

“It appears the library I inaccessible,” he noted. And without the Necropolis’ own supply of research material, that left precious little knowledge in the hands of the Haunts.

“So,” he said after half a second “Are you interested in the taking up the priest?” he asked. Otherwise that left Kenneth as the obvious one to take up the mantle of Bishop. Again.

[Robert Cross]

"It is," Cross replies simply. "For now," he adds. As close to hopeful as he gets.

The Burned Man follows along after Gilroy, silent for a long time in the wake of his question. Gaze once again taking in the disrepair of the structure around them.

Finally: "I...would not shy away from the Priesthood. Eventually. I am serious about my Faith." His tone is one of conviction.

More silence save for the scrape of his shoes behind Kenneth.

"But, I feel like there's still a lot for me to learn. About the Church. About myself. My...nature." A beat. "You've been Bishop once before. I see no reason that wouldn't be Bishop again." Direct asa always.

He stops, examining the frame of a window, frowning. Speaks over his shoulder: "Unless you don't want the title?" It's a seemingly casual question, though its importance is obvious.