[14:41:00] Solem Huitzilopochtli says, "There's no need for Fhaun to be present. This is between us."
[14:41:00] Masika says, "Um okay..."
[14:46:08] Slumping forward, her arms would cross and rest against the table, her chin perched on top of them. Cheery hues would darken, her eyes like unpolished emeralds.

"Now I'll have to explain the story to him too... that adds another to my list." Masika grumbled. "I guess I should start, though."

The woman paused. Her tone was serious, her voice quiet. "It starts back home, on Gehenna. You know I've talked about my tribe a little when I first arrived, the Epazotl. No, they're not all like me- I'm just the oddball. Never truly religious, always curious about the bodies we studied and preserved instead of why we did so. Apparently we once had a way to prevent a body from being necromanced at all- like, the soul could never be transferred to another body at all. But that's just folklore."

Another pause. She sighs. "Anyways, I've always see things that go on in life and realized that they're usually good or evil. But... good people do evil things, and evil people do good things. So I just thought... why can't I just do an evil thing for a good reason? Why can't I..."

Her tone grew shaky. "So it was just a stupid childhood dream. That's how I came here, anyways."
(Masika)
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[14:58:56] A stare. The Sun Judgement, never wavering, reaching the depths of Masika's physical features, grasping anything able to claim the surface.

Until, after explanation, Solem's religion decided to talk. Perhaps the words coming from a religious point of view, but those values... absorbing them, life changes abruptly.

"Desire is not coherent. It just wants to. Happiness, for example, knows it needs to be pondered, but it will descend into the swamps thinking about walking the mountain.

Temperament is not coherent. It just screams. Anger, when extreme, knows that it should not take revenge, but it will hide behind justice to justify itself.

The dream is not coherent. It just flies. In the name of his design, he who is on high will judge as inferior who has no wings.

In the tremendous challenge of consistency, desire that your temperament will not take you away from yourself or away from friendship, God, and other values. May your desire bring you closer to people and God, rather than alienate you.

In temperament they pulsate life and death. Do you celebrate life? Do not destroy the eternal pleasure of afterlife. In the daring commitment to consistency, decide that you will pursue your dream, which may involve going back, recognizing your error, verbs that enable you to truly free flights.

In the dramatic effort of coherence, organize your life so that your desire is pastored, so that it is firm but respectful; strong but serene; rich, but without damaging others and yourself.

To be dignified, your life needs to be coherent. Consistency is the grace that overcomes. Incoherence is the law that rules. Consistency comes as the presence of Huitzilopochtli's grace in us. Incoherence comes from our unruly way of being.

We can be consistent. We must be consistent. We may fail the walk, but we will always seek the ideal. If we do not give up, the balance will be in our favor. Consistency is a difficult lifestyle, which, to follow, needs the power of God with us. And He rejoices when we walk with Him.

Necromancy. You are denying eternity of a single soul. No, Masika, it is not for the greater good.

I forgive you. The Sun accepts your forgiveness."

Finally, the man stiffened his spine, slowly climbing out of the chair, and quietly analyzing the purple-haired girl, waiting for more reactions. But most of those words already denounced his intentions.
(Solem Huitzilopochtli)
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[15:05:45] Words would be met with a focused stare. Her eyes never left Solem as he spoke, the rest of her face buried by skin and cloth. Verdants quivered, shame apparent in their pupils.

"I..." She mumbled into her arms. Slowly, Masika would sit up, her cheeks flushed. "I understand. I... just want to be good, no matter what. Dmex made it sound like I'm actively practicing, like I've done horrible, horrible things like Rebecca. But it was a mistake I made when I was younger, something I've held so much guilt over that I've outed myself for doing it in order to achieve redemption."

Her head tilts forward, forehead resting against the cold wood. "I just want to be good..."
(Masika)
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[15:10:52] Golden boots slapping against the cold stone grounds, until Solem closed distance and reached the girl.

A headpat. Caressing the apex of those purple hairs, a duty of the Warchief. Connecting to the soldiers, and motivating them, when able. Ties of Order, never wavering once the lull choice attains the warrior.

"No, Masika. You are good. You are far better than I am. Going so far for redemption is such a nice act."

The hand beckoned for Masika, slowly trespassing the door, while the last words echoed through the ambit.

"Let's go back. If Karma asks, it has been dealt with."
(Solem Huitzilopochtli)