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Snippet #807254

located in Lost Haven, a part of Swan Song, one of the many universes on RPG.

Lost Haven

Main City. Will make Genesis once we get to that point.

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Once Lizabee actually got on her feet and started going most of her discomfort, thanks to the narcotics in part, blended together to the point where she could mostly ignore the constant presence of her pain. In fact it actually took her less time than normal to work her way into a clean white wife-beater and her favorite black hoodie and make herself presentable enough to be seen in public.

Her "apartment" was more like a closet than anything else and just large enough for her futon and a tall worn dresser to fit into with enough room left over to move around. The hole in the wall didn't have a kitchen to speak of and the stove had long since been disconnected from it mounts with the gas turned off. The little bathroom wasn't much better. While the toilet worked Lizabee had to fill the tank with water from the sink if she wanted it to flush and even then the damn thing was iffy at best.

If the place had one small saving grace it was that there was a perfectly huge claw footed bathtub that, although beat up, worked perfectly fine. Lizabee just couldn't guarantee the water that came out of the faucet would be hot. Not that she was very picky. The Apartments were intended for the low income population which pretty much meant that the people who lived in the building should have considered themselves lucky they weren't out on the streets. Living in secure squealer was at least more safe than not living there in her opinion.

After throwing her pills, keys, and wallet into her pocket Lizabee fled from her apartment into the streets with her hood up. More times than not the young woman felt cold even when it was relatively warm out. Although she would have liked making contact with one of the dealers who pushed prescriptions in the area, it was safer to do that under the cover of darkness rather than in broad daylight. So instead Lizabee headed for Lost Haven's nearest Catholic Church. As she expected the large opulent building was mostly empty with the exception of several unfortunate looking individuals who were using the place to protect them from the elements as well as their sins.

Sighing to herself Lizabee slipped around them easily avoiding eye contact where possible as she made a straight line for the wooden confessional to the far right of the main room and knocked thrice on the receiving end to ensure the confessional wasn't in use.

"Enter my child." The priest indicated from the obscured side of the large box.

Before entering Lizabee gave a careful look around to ensure no one was watching her and stepped into the confessional. One hand was pushing aside the curtain while another slipped into her pocket to touch the cool metal of the Rosary she had concealed there.

Once inside Lizabee reached up and pulled the window partition to the left opening the obscured center so that she nd the preist on the other side could speak.

"Forgive me, Father, fore I have sinned. It's been nearly a week since my last confession." She began.

"What is the nature of these sins my child?" The priest inquired evenly.

"I accuse myself of anger towards my mother and father, anger towards the greater world, and anger towards my creator. But mostly father I accuse myself of indifference to myself. Surely this is the greatest sin of all." Lizabee confessed.

"I see." The priest replied. "Many times, my child, God asks us to look within our own hearts and refelct on the aspects of ourselves we do not always like. Maybe when you look into yourself you feel ashamed. You feel like you're being petty and out of line for feeling so strongly about people and events that were so entirely outside of your individual control. God would ask us to forgive and love ourselves just as we forgive and love others. But as you know this is often easier said then done. Compassion is often easier to bestow upon others than it is to bestow upon yourself."

"How may I reconcile with myself?" Instead of being a heartfelt spiritual question this response was scripted like a code between herself and the man behind the veil.

The Father did not answer for a minute or two and instead reached into his robe to produce a sheet or two of folded paper that had names and addresses written upon them. Although the screen was meant to separate them one of the corners had been broken enough for the papers to be slipped through the screen. Lizabee grunted and took them.

"You know I don't like you doing this, Elizabeth." The priest muttered evenly after Lizabee took them. "Its not safe I don't want to see you targeted by somebody some day, or worse, do something that puts your life in immediate jeopardy."

"I know, Father. You tell me every time I come, and yet every time you have a new list of the suffering for me to take. We all pay our dues one way or anther in the crappy world, Father. Are you going to honestly deny me mine?" Lizabee asked with somber curiosity.

"No." The priest replied.