From the outside, according to pictures, the place was unassuming. Seemed nice and well kept, and according to what she had read when she looked up the place it seemed to be well liked as well. A few concerning reviews from ex members as well as people who had been turned away, but over all good. Apparently there were child care services, as well as community aid and such. 

She'd decided to remove the blonde from her hair as a way to gently alter her looks and shoved it up into a decent bun. A nice pair of fitted jeans, a fitted t-shirt, and a floral colored sweater and she was ready. She threw on a little liner, but kept her makeup minimal. She wasn't there to impress anyone, but she didn't wanna look like she'd just crawled out of bed, either. Just your average young woman looking into what church she wanted to someday attend. 

There was a service coming up in an hour, which gave her enough time to get ready and hop on a bus to head across town. It was a Sunday, so the service would probably be full. She'd never been to a service before, nor inside a church for very long. Bambi's service had been held in one and that was the extent of her knowledge. What was there to worry about though? She doubted she was going to get attacked in the middle of the day by a building full of bigoted grandma's and grandpa's. 

Heck, even if she was it wasn't like she couldn't just nope herself out of there to safety anyway. 

Easy money as far as she was concerned, if a little time consuming. 

It took a half an hour on a crowded bus for her to get to her destination. She occupied her time playing games on her phone and spamming Xavier and Aprils with GIF's of cats attacking water melons and random memes. It was always funny seeing their different reactions to some of the raunchier ones. 

When she made it to the street the church was on and got off her bus, she was headed straight there with her GPS going. When she ended up outside the front doors she paused for a moment to put her phone on vibrate and stash it away in her pocket, before entering. No need to be rude, even if she was just there to be nosy.

Stepping inside she took a moment to look around first, figuring out where she was supposed to go. She was pretending to be human with this whole project, so she couldn't exactly just start walking around through the walls to try and find incriminating documents or whatever. She also was't brave enough to go snooping without her powers, so... she was just here for the service and to learn a bit more about the church on her first visit. 

He noticed her as soon as she walked into the room. She was a new face, after all, and he was the type to know well the faces of all of his flock. His eyes moved from the person he was conversing with for a moment to look over at the figure before the closing door. She seemed normal enough... A young woman, alone, walking into a somewhat obscure church in down town New York.

There were many explanations for why a person who was a combination of such things would arrive at this doorstep. No need to suspect anything just yet, even though it was in his nature to be supicious. He started by placing a hand on the shoulder of the older man he was talking to, and politely pulling away from the conversation, with his blessings. He meandered off to the side, beginning his standard set of observations He would be sure to strafe past her at the 10 ft range he'd measured out, to see if she reacted to touching the edhe of his field in any way. This was a great way to check and see if someone was a demon in disguise. Many, when their abilities were curtailed, showed telltale reactions to it.

After he completed that, he would circle back, and move to greet her, letting out a kindly. "Oh, hello... I didn't see you there. Are you new to the service? I am the head priest here, Father McCallan. My sermon will be starting soon if you wish to sit in."

People were still filtering in and seating themselves. Juniper stepped off to the side a little and stood there awkwardly. Did... did she just take a seat anywhere? Some folks were dressed up fancier than others. Was there a class system? Sitting in the very back just felt so cliche, though. She'd seen it happen in quite a few movies and at least a dozen fanfictions. The back was where the cool kids sat, apparently, according to directors and 12-year-olds everywhere.

It was hard not to notice the priest, or.. father? Whatever. The guy with the black clothes and white-collar. That one. He stood out like a sore thumb among a throng of people in their colorful church clothes. A burned thumb. Dude was seriously crispy.

Weren't Catholics supposed to be all gray and boring? Dour and frowning? Or was that another trope she'd fallen for?

Eh, whatever. She didn't wait much longer before spying a seat and starting for it until that same priest materialized out of nowhere in her blind spot and spoke to her. She turned as he let out a greeting, and hooooly @#$% that voice,

"Oh, Hi... Yes, I am. I'm Grace, it's nice to meet you, Father McCallen." She replied back calmly and extended her hand to shake. Up close he looked a lot less crispy but definitely scarred. She wondered what he had been through to do that to his face. It was pretty bad. "I hope it's okay that I sit in? I'm new to the city and I've been looking for places to join. This is the third place I've gone to so far."

He gave her some very serious Phantom of the Opera vibes. Was that mean? That was totally terrible, wasn't it?

"... I'm pretty new to all of this, so, um, sorry in advance if I'm really awkward about it. My family wasn't all that religious growing up so I'm still getting the hang of how this all works."

She was eyeballing her seat, watching as the rest of the benches filled up, and shifted on her feet. "I don't wanna keep you from your sermon, though. Thank you for stopping to talk. I feel less like I'm intruding now."

She waited until it was acceptable to part ways and scooted off to secure her seat. There were bibles tucked in the wooden pockets on the back of the seats in front of her. She snagged one up and opened it while waiting for the sermon to begin.

Father McCallan had a tendency to look for certain behaviors when meeting new people. It was, after all, a sick world, infested with demons. One had to be sure the behaviors of those he planned to associate with were becoming of one free of the affliction, or allies of those. For example. She hadn't seen his face before, and thus she didn't know him.

The tell was obvious. She looked at his scars, looked away, looked back again for a moment, and then tried not to stare as he introduced himself. This was common for someone who wasn't expecting him to look how he did. Meek, even. He did so like the meek, blessed as they were.

"Grace. What a splendid name. I welcome you join in and learn more about our humble church. I hope we measure well to the other, more splendorous houses of god in the city. We tend to spend more of the budget on charity, ourselves."

She was a pretty young girl... Alone in the city, perhaps? Not many ties? Perhaps a prospect for the inner flock; such people were often looking for something to belong to, and saving them from some witless cause for a righteous one was the highest form of god's work.

"Worry not, child. It is simply a pleasure that you have found the light of the lord at your age. Do, please, find a good seat. I will find you after to see if you have any questions."

He pointed her to a seat toward the front. He wanted to keep an eye on her.

From there, the service would begin. Today's sermon was on temptation. The snake in the garden of eden. It was so that the snake was the true introduction of sin to Eve. Temptation and sin went hand in hand, and always there were snakes to bring such things to them. He stressed the importance of finding the snakes in your life, be they people who lead you astray, or behaviors, situations, advertisements. Know them when you see them, and then you will be able to fight them.

More of the standard service continued, and everything wrapped up after comunion. He remembered the new girl he'd met, and circled back to try and catch her before she left. "Ah! Grace, was it? Did you enjoy the service?" He watched her for those behaviors once more... Would she politely lie and try to leave, or did his sermon ring true to her?

Her response would tell.

Religion had always been something she had an interest in while growing up. Her parents, well... pretty much her mother, really, hadn't been believers of anything. Somewhat thoroughly agnostic, with a habit of being very vocally in opposition of mainstream religions and very supportive of fringe ones. She'd heard everything from Aliens being gods, to people being aliens who were also gods, to there is no god, only Zuul. When she'd gotten old enough to try and understand any of it the idea that some grand, all powerful being having control over her life and the universe had been equal parts terrifying and awe inspiring. 

She wanted to believe in something that told her that things would get better just for the sake of believing... but she was also very, very angry at the idea that the same being who might make her life better was also in charge of every heinous thing that had ever happened to her. What kind of god failed a child like that?

Now, years later and a marginally more mature, she found herself wondering those same things. The priests speech wasn't bad at all, in fact it was a little uplifting. There were a few good, guilty reminders packed in there that caused her to reflect on how she had recently begun drinking again, a reminder that she still needed to finally quite her sometimes-smoking habit, among others.

It also, begrudgingly, brought forth memories of her Uncle and all of the ways he had slithered in to ruin her life. If ever there was a snake in her life, it was him. 

By the time the service had wrapped up she was stuck with a lot of thoughts she didn't wanna have to think about, and learned a few new things she hadn't known before. The experience had been pleasant, surprisingly, seeing as she really did like learning new things. (Just maybe not math)

Father McCallen managed to sneak up on her again since she was wrapped up in her own thoughts and she jumped slightly in surprise. 

"Oh, you startled me Father McCallen." She offered a shaky smile at best and turned to face him fully. "Yes, Grace Smith, sir." Hope her horrible Aunt didn't mind that she was borrowing her last name. "I did enjoy the service. It was very..." She chewed on her lip for a moment, "...eye opening to some people in my life." 

Ah, but her personal problems would have to wait until later wouldn't they? She was here for a job. 

Glancing around at the people still mulling about and drawing from the unease she was feeling from before, "Can... Can I ask you a controversial question, Father McCallen?"

She shifted from foot to foot uneasily and fiddled with her fingers clasped in front of her.

As the young lady yumped, Father McCallan smiled mirthfully "Usually I don't have that affect on people; they tend to notice me coming from a good distance. It's a nice change of pace, I would say."

He folded his gloved hands upon each other on the back of the pew bench of the row she sat in, his expression mostly pleasant and passive as he listened to her linkage of his speech to events in her life. Ah, his sermon had gone well, then. A well executed sermon found a special, unique way to resonate with everyone in the service. "You'll have to tell me more some time, if you should find this humble service to your liking, that is."

He stood upright again as she took on a more nervous aire and asked to ask a question. He gave a serene smile in response, and nodded. "Yes, my child. Ask away, and I will do my best to provide a good answer." There were many controversial questions in regards to religion. Many of them didn't have answers at all. Odd, though, she hadn't struck him as the type to have such burning philosophical woes. No, she seemed a tad too meek for that.

What was it then, that plagued her mind to make her so ill at ease?

Ha, haha, no. One therapist was more than enough in her lifetime if she did say so herself. It was hard enough barely managing to stumble around her problems without actually spitting the truth out. She didn't look forward to the prospect of having to come up with a bunch of lies to feed the kindly priest to keep her act yup, and thus end up giving herself more work to do.

That was basically her job right now though, so no real way to avoid it. Infiltrate, snoop, and report back. 'For a few weeks' L had said.

Juniper put a pin in his offer, for now, tacking it to the board in her head of things to circle back around to later. She eyed the people mulling around- some chatting with others, some already in the process of leaving. Everyone looked fully human, but just like with her own mutation sometimes it wasn't super visible. She was uncertain about how exactly to ask her question without it being confused for something else. There was certainly a healthy mix of skin tones, ages, and presumably other unique traits.

"Well, it's just that with the last two places I went to not everyone was exactly, um..." She fidgeted in her seat and dropped her gaze to her hands where her fingers were wringing together. "...Normal?"

She couldn't exactly force a blush at will, so she focused on just seeming as shamed and nervous as possible.

"I... I don't have very good experiences with mutants." She whispered the last part, looking from face to face around her in what she hoped came across as being suspicious or afraid. It wasn't terribly hard when she just had to imagine her mom's or Uncle's face in place of theirs.

"I was hoping to find somewhere with, um... less of them? Or none at all, really. I'm sorry if that's insensitive sounding." She didn't dare look at him even though she wanted to, because it felt like her projected character would break slightly. She was supposed to be terribly afraid of those rogue, wild mutants, right?

Ah. There it was. The father motioned a hand out to the seat next to her to allow her to scoot over so he could sit in the long bench aside her.

Normal, was an interesting question. Of course, that could refer to anyone, right? Then again, as far as most were concerned, he didn't look normal. Some notated the color of ones skin to denote some normalcy. His service was multi cultural, without a doubt. No, she was referring to something very specific.

Rather than ask, though, he let the silence and proximity speak for him, maintaining the same kind, open, almost smiling expression as he listened.

"I'm sorry for any such experiences. The topic of mutant kind is a complex one; Mutants themselves range from peaceful to violent, just as humans do, the major difference being the affect one mutant can have when compared to a human..." It was a diplomatic answer. It might not be the one she wanted, but it was important to start small and feed the flame further over time, even if they came to you with concurrent thoughts. He waited for a moment to gauge her reaction before speaking up again. "Grace, I want you to attend more services here. I can tell you that this is church is a safe place. Would you agree to attend next week?"

He shifted in the seat, turning toward her a little as he awaited her response.

The start of his answer probably would have been enough for her to stamp this whole job with a big red DONE and go home, but oh, silly her she had promised more to a certain sassy blonde.

Juniper didn't want to admit it, because her life had been full of mistakes because of it, but she tended to be far too open and trusting for her own good a lot of the time. She liked to think that she was more careful than that, more suspicious of people, but it didn't last long at all. Maybe she was predisposed to be like that or conditioned, she didn't know. All she knew was that she wanted to take what he said at face value and just trust him.

It was a wonder she had survived this long, and she'd be the first to admit it.

She hazarded a few glanced at him while he was talking, fiddled with her hands a bit more until she decided that was enough of that, and then turned her chin to look at him since he was directly facing her now.

He'd given her a non-answer, a very pretty one, but one all the same. She didn't have a clear answer to L's question yet and so she would need to continue. She pretended to watch the people a bit more, as if she were giving it some thought, and then eventually reluctantly nodded. "It couldn't hurt, I suppose, and I really did like your sermon."

She was elusive... Perhaps it was some sort of guilt that wracked her mind. The guilt of a survivor of something wicked. He knew it. He was a catholic priest, within this very system there were many who had been affected by such things. When he'd arrived here, he had become privy to one such offender at this very locale. He'd hid the man's body at the bottom of the staircase to the basement in a small box.

His assessment was, of course, conjecture, but he was rarely wrong about people. She was a victim. A victim of a mutant. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and his clear eye made direct visual contact with her own. Over the bridge between their souls he sent her a look of understanding.

And then the moment was over, and he smiled widely. "Excellent, young Ms. Smith. I look forward to seeing you soon. Now, if you will forgive me, I must tend to the rest of my flock. Good day to you." He stood once more, and gave her a slight bow, walking off to address someone who was already waiting for his input on some inane subject.

He addressed it quickly, and then engaged in exuberant conversation with a younger teenage girl with an old wound on her ear that had left it damaged. Soon, the young woman that had visited was tucked into the mental database under 'revisit this later.' He was, after all, a busy man.

Whether she wanted to or not, she couldn't stop the physical reaction of him touching her. She flinched. Didn't even have to fake it, seeing as it came naturally to her when strangers she barely knew decided her for was fair game for whatever reason. She was so used to just not being physically present around strangers that she kinda forgot what it felt like. Foreign and invading.

She didn't like it one bit but declined to pull away like she normally would have. He seemed nice, seemed to understand her current character quite a bit, and it was helping to play into the act probably. She'd allow it for now even if it produced the feeling of ants on her skin and make her actually want to vomit a little. Had she talked with Doc about that yet? She probably needed to talk to him about that soon. Kindly strangers didn't often take well to you acting like they were made of razors of something.

"No, of course not. I've already eaten up too much of your time as it is." She tucked the book beside her back where she had found it with care, stood and rubbed her palms on the fabric of her jeans to try and calm her anxiety.

"I'll be back next week. Good day, Father McCallen."

Once they had parted ways she slowly made her way out. She took her time actually looking at the various works of art and such scattered around, before officially leaving. Not too long, not too short. Just someone with an honest interest in something she wasn't terribly familiar with.

It wasn't a super long ride home, which she filled in with more memes and planning what she was going to eat/drink for dinner in order to wash the sermon and the priest's words from her mind.

--

Next week rolled around much quicker than she had anticipated and before she knew it she was shuffling herself back inside the church for another sermon and probably more unwanted soul searching. She'd kept up with her toned-down appearance instead of leaping back into being a blonde. Brown hair- down and lose with just a few bits pinned back to keep her face free- and moderately conservative clothing. Loose long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled up a little, tan capri's, and white sneakers. She'd looked up what sheltered Christian girls often wear and stuck gold at the local thrift store for supplies.

This time she was expecting the nice priest, and actually looked for him first. She wasn't gonna lie to herself and say that his demeanor wasn't super relaxing to be around, regardless of her being here to effectively spy on him.

For the busy father of the flock, a week passed in a flash. Services, schooling, sermons and so much more kept him busy. Still, as she walked in, the Priest looked up from his conversation, and smiled, waving to the returning visitor.

Before long, he circled back to her, and approached with a nod. "Grace, wonderful to see you again. I hope your week was good to you."

He waved to another person as they walked in, and turned back to her. "We have an amazing sermon prepared today. Be sure to get a good seat." He smiled warmly, and turned to wrap up the last few greetings before the sermon.

Today, it was about the importance of reaching out for help. It was easy to find yourself lost in the day, the week, in life. Look to god for guidance, and look for god in those good hearts around you. Grow god in yourself, and you will always guide yourself true. Until then... Don't be afraid to ask for help.

He was doing his usual, answering questions about the sermon, schmoozing the pockets, and guiding the more devoted of the flock at the end when he spotted the second time visitor again, and took a moment to circle back. "Young Ms.Smith, how did you like the sermon?"

She smiled when she saw him. Small and weak and warbly on the edges. "Hello, Father McCallen... It was alright I guess." Not good, not great, not terrible. Just alright. Bland and normal.

She chose a seat a bit closer than last time and made sure to glance around like someone was gonna jump out at her for a good portion of the sermon. After a while, it was hard not to just listen. The Father certainly did have a way with words and dragging out unwanted feelings. The whole thing is about reaching out. She might not have been the type to get down on her knees and pray for help, but she was kinda sorta talking with someone about some of the less significant problems in her life.

Eventually, it ended and like the last time she was left with some legitimate things to ponder on as well as the urge for a nap. She remained seated as everyone else stood and mulled about on the way out, hands folded in her lap and her eyes fixed on some of the religious decorations in the place. The priest found her there.

"Oh... It was really good. Really got me thinking about things, you know? You really have a talent for connecting with people, I'd say." She paused and then glanced away awkwardly. "I mean if you don't mind me saying so that is."

She had forgone the heavy foundation she normally wore in everyday life. Both this time and the last time. She wanted to portray the image of being as absolutely pitiful as possible. The small assortment of scars that lingered on her face from her childhood was laid bare, the busting of pale freckles that ran across her cheeks and down the bridge of her nose, and the light shadows that always seemed to linger just under her eyes were tools she hoped to use to help get herself some answers as quickly as possible.

The father kindly grabbed up her complement as she gave it, and set it gently to the side, explaining in a gracious tone. "It is the lord who has a way with words, my child, I only speak those same words in order to connect more people with them.

He watched her for a moment longer. She was rather meek, sitting there in hand me down clothes, bare of makeup, quiet as a churchmouse. Almost too ideal as a potential member of the flock. Unassuming was the way to be when doing the lord's true work. He himself didn't fit those parameters very well, so he had to make up for it in other ways.

She? She did. He wondered if her and Eisley would get along. "Grace, pardon me if I am assuming too much, but you've come a second time, to my sermons, and I can't help but feel as though I am starting to get the sense that you are a little lost yourself. Tell me, my child... Is there anything you need to get off your chest? Anything I, and the lord, can help you with?"

Ahah, as gracious as gracious could be! To her, it often came off as very fake and just looking for someone to argue the point further. In this case, is could have been true, but it was hard for her to fully believe. "I... suppose I never thought of it that way I guess. That's actually pretty comforting." It wasn't.

It seemed he caught on to the signals she was sending and she let her hands clench in her lap a little like they had when she had first stumbled into Doc's office. The only difference here, in a church and with a non-professional, was that she had already decided to use the very thing she had trouble speaking of as her biggest tool.

She frowned at nothing in particular, looking away and letting her gaze list around aimlessly for a bit. Her lips parted a little a few times like she was struggling to work up the courage to force the words out, before chickening out and zipping back up. It wasn't hard to pull off the image of a torn, tortured soul when you actually were one deep inside and you struggled with it almost daily.

"Father... Can I ask you how is it that someone supposed to deal with... with hate?" She kept her gaze carefully turned away and her voice as quiet as she could while still being audible.

"...what.... what do you do when you hate someone?"