In which we trust (Seiz)

>> "It's beautiful, isn't it? I hope to have new windows commissioned to chronicle our people's great and growing tale. "

His nose hadn’t been lying earlier, when he’d caught Garret’s scent among the pews. His fellow teenager walked in, dress shoes clicking. He seemed to be doing well for himself. Good.

The puma man himself ended his grooming with a stretch, and—with a bit of a balancing trick between his tail and his body—stood upright. Fully upright; two legs and all. He returned the bow with a little bob of his head and a flashed-tooth grin. For himself, he wasn’t dressed quite as well as Garret. Rather, he was dressed in a parody of being well dressed; his loose black capris were pin-stripped, and his vest was a pastel purple that matched his square-rimmed glasses. What could he say? He was colorblind. No shoes on these feet, thank you. He’d never much cared for shoes, in any form.

“Beautiful’s one word for it,” the puma man agreed, his green gaze wandering around. “Can’t say I know quite what to make of it, though. Heard a lot of things about this place, but nothing about religion. Not that I can quite tell what religion this is meant for.” His ears flickered amiably. “The thrones are certainly a touch, though. Word’s out on what kind of touch, but they’re definitely somethin’.”

He offered out one paw-hand; the fingers were longer than a true pumas, but still shorter and thicker than a humans; the nails were neatly retraced. The pads were a coarse black-pink leather. “ ‘Cuse me if I’m not supposed to be wandering in here. Just got myself a room the other day. Name’s Miles. You live here, too, I gather? Mutant, right? Personally, I’d like to see us get any kind of ‘great’ tale before I’d go and make windows out of it.”

>> " Not so much a religion as a way of looking at things. The Sanctuary is both a literal safe haven for those of our kind as well as a place for inspiration and education. We as a species must gravitate to one another, to come together in these strange times and be recognized as a people."

The puma’s green eyes drifted back to the stained glass. “Umm,” he agreed amiably “sounds about right. Not exactly in my nature to curl up with others, but if there’s one thing the Camps taught me, it’s somethin’ about watchin’ each other’s backs at night.” Those eyes went back down to the teenager in front of him, searching wrists and neck with an almost habitual flick. His own collar scar was ringed around his neck, in a furless line of scarred skin that the rest of his black coat didn’t quite cover. There were a few kinds of survivors. Calley had come across plenty of the forget-it-ever-happened type, in the Mansion. He’d decided on Miles being a don’t-let-it-be-forgotten type. If nothing else, being able to drop the Camps into casual conversation could lead to some interesting results. That was the theory, anyway.

>> " There's no problem with you being here. The thrones are dedications to the founding partners of the Sanctuary. I do not have one up there,so I am not overly concerned with you being up there. You would have to take that up with them. I am Garrett Wills, Director of the Sanctuary. Welcome and I hope you find what you seek with us."

“Director, huh?” The feline man’s whiskers flared forward in curious respect. His nose followed suit, as if to lock in the man’s scent. “Not bad. I suppose I’ve got a question for you, then. I keep getting this line about ‘gorge all you want, use the pool, and don’t worry about it’ whenever I ask where I’m supposed to pitch in. Now I’m not a fan of pools, but for the rest, it doesn’t feel right.” His ears touched back against his skull with brief pride. “I ain’t a freeloader. What can I do to earn my keep?”

>> " Perhaps our tale is only beginning, but it will surely continue. Continue and flourish. We will soon walk among the humans with our heads held high and meeting the eyes of the other species, not the floor before them. My own gifts are those of neural manipulation. I came here to the Sanctuary myself to seek a new life. A life surrounded by my own people, to seek our own place in the world. We deserve as much, if not more, than the humans have to enjoy."

The puma man’s lips twitched back. The skin and muscles of his face were literally not set up for smiling; that was just fine, since he was going for a much more feral grin than a human could possibly give. Sharp white teeth glinted in the candle light. He held up one paw. “You show me whoever’s lowering their heads to humans. I’ll help ‘em with that.” One large claw slid out; he mimed forcing a chin up with its point. “Pride’s about the only thing we’ve got right now. That ‘place in the world’ of yours sounds nice. That’s the reason I came here.”