Welcome to Gaia! ::

Michael nodded and moved to sit on the bed. "It's not odd dear." He whispered to her, watching her change out of her over clothes. "Listen, I'm sure you'll do fine tomorrow. You're Banshi. You're brilliant, militant, crafty. If anyone is going to get us a good deal, it's you. But, no matter what you choose tomorrow, I'll still love you."

"Aye I will. Hell I'll even get the chapel from Father Barzini so we have more room." He said as he lied down on the bed. It was getting late and he felt a tiny bit sleepy. "Until then, you should get some sleep. You don't mind splitting the bed with me do you? Because I could go find a comfy pew if you do."

"Not in the slightest." He smiled back at her and moved to be closer. It made him happy to be next to her like this. Just the two of them, together. An old pleasure he never thought he'd get to feel again. "I love you Banshi." He whispered, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

"I promise I never will." He held her close to him, tightly, not letting go. Tomorrow there would be talk of war, talk of death. But for now, just for tonight. He could be happy. A few hours went by and at 1:30 am an alarm started ringing. It was Michael's, an old bell type clock that he bought last week. Groggily he got up and turned it off. Time to rally the troops. He put on some new clothes, grabbed his blade, typed Banshi up a quick note to tell her where he would be and finally gave her a small kiss on the cheek, whispering in her ear. "I'll be back soon love." With that being said he started out the door and looked to find the rest of the Crusniks.

Mercy held the door open, looking to the side as she studied the church. " It is beautiful.."

Without a sound Hawk droped to the floor in a crouch, his wings folding as he stood. he did not adress the younger females other than flicking a glance at them, his voice soft but lethal as he growled. " Puppet Master, thy legion summons." something was.. wrong.. his figure too still, his expression ice. a anger, so hard to rile in Hawk, was burning coldly just under the surface.. wild and chaotic.

In the large silent sacred space, where light from the evening sun flooded the stain glass windows into the large dark room, Banshi walked up the wooden steps to the front. Her outfit was as usual, a long old ripped up black trench coat, black combat boots, a black dress, and bondage pants. Reaching the front, standing infront of everyone, although her clothing had tatters and tears, her presense was one of strength and authority, the serious look on her face not flinching, and her gaze not looking away for even a moment from her fellow crusniks. Taking off her trench coat, Banshi let it fall to the ground, her sleevless dress showing scars which stretched out over her shoulders, almost like wings. Then, slipping off the straps of the dress, she let if fall to the ground. Banshi stood before them, wearing a black modest strapless bra, her pale, thin figure covered with scars of every kind, from every kind of torture, and recieved from every species of creature in almost every kind of situation. "I recieved these scars in my time... they are my crown of thorns, my shame and my pride. Before I begin, I wanted you all to see, and to know." Resting one of her hands on the golden crucifix which stood, shining in the dark, on the alter, Banshi took a silent breath, and began.

"Everyone, I know rumors have reached you that war is upon us. These rumors are correct." Pausing, she let the affirmation sink in, and then continued. "I personally met with Viktor of the Latverious clan, an agreement could not be compromised. They.... think we are weak." Her hand let go of the crucifix, and her long, pale, scarred arm dropped by her side. Stepping down to their same level, Banshi spoke, a strong, deep fire in her eyes, and confidence, leadership, and honesty in all of her. "Our allies, the Ushers, are moving into Basil. We will rely upon ourselves, and for buying them time, shall relocate to Basil as soon as we show the Latverious clan what we are. Vampires, nosferatu, hunt humans. I think you can scarcely call us vampires.... we don't survive off the weak, no, we hunt and we kill the strong to survive. We have never forced ourselves upon anyone, we have never taken our rightful place. The place nature itself intended for us. As thanks for our respect of old alliances in contribution to the now dead Red Cross Society, we thrived in the Outerlands and put off hunting their clan for as long as populations allowed. Shall we allow ourselves to lay down and die? Never." At the last word, she hit her hand against a pew in front. "Shall we allow them to kill us? Never." Thud. "Shall we allow them to disgrace us because we are not one of blood, because we have no line, no history, no earthly riches? To think us cursed, to think us weak, to think of us as MAGGOTS they allow to consume their dead? Never!" Thud. Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes, clinched her fist, and turned away from them for a short second, before turning back and continuing. Calmly, peacefully, almost tranquil, Banshi spoke to them.

"We have nothing to fear. Dry your eyes, and quietly bear this pain with pride... Heaven itself shall remember the silent and the brave. Promise to each other, we shall never allow them to see the fear in our eyes, the trembling of our souls, the tears that stain the cheeks of generations, and that we shall give strength to those who still remain. Discard all of your regret, in the fury of our darkest approaching hour... in the belief and hope and sincerest faith that, from this deepest debt, a better world will be made. For ourselves, for the crusniks who have died before us, and for those who are asleep or unborn who shall walk the path we have treaded in the future years to come. We are few, but we are not weak. We are tired, but we shall not be weary. I promise all of you my life, my vow to you is everything."

Walking back, she picked up her dress and her trench coat, slinging the trench coat on and placing the dress over her shoulder. "Now... we need to discuss how to handle this war." She smiled, a little bit of her darker, more serious mode giving way for a kind word, "I am afraid to say, 'kicking their a**' doesn't count as a battle plan."