Abel Lazarus
“……..Yes.” She answers, voice even. It might sound like she’s hesitating, but it’s no different from the pauses she normally takes to select her words. “This is… where I should be. Believe me when I say… the only thing keeping me here is my own lack of desire to leave.”
Besides, where would she go? What she does out there is the same as what she would be doing here. She would need to go somewhere far away and start over, devoting herself to a new church. And again, she would be helping children, helping people. Here, at least, she doesn’t need to worry about anything else.
This is the only place left for her.
Abel Lazarus Setting the idea in that perhaps he needs to learn to prioritize himself over any potential Deity is Possible. Not instantaneous. But a seed being planted- Perhaps the start of a new Garden- it’s not impossible. Maybe it’s the least significant part- but that may well be what Abel Needs.
To learn that torturing himself for a chance at Salvation- Isn’t the Answer.
How blasphemous indeed. But it’s never truly been about the religion for Sister. It was always the place it gave her to stay, the people that surrounded her, set her on a better path… And that is why her habit will remain white, as she will never be fully devoted to the cause. Something that only the most devout, such as Abel and Fabel, are likely to notice.
Besides… This train is clearly not of this world, and whatever is judging all of them, deciding the numbers on their hands and bodies, is neither spiritual nor religious to her. Who knows what it is, in the end. It’s not about the train itself, it’s about the passengers.
Abel Lazarus But He. He is Still that little boy somewhere in there, right?
It’s hard to look him in the face and feel he deserved any of this- but when he looks at his grown self it’s… Different.
And that, too, is what Sister has been preaching. That the past won’t change, that there is no ‘future events’ that flour child will endure. Those events have already happened. The passengers are their child selves, this is simply like looking at a photograph. A very realistic, interactive, speaking photograph.
She offers Fabel a soft smile as Abel leads him elsewhere. She’s happy to speak to the passenger alone, to help him in any way she can. She’s no stranger to confession.
“…Anything is fine. I don’t expect you to spell out everything… It’s hard enough to even understand it within ourselves, let alone say it to someone else in a way they can understand… Someone who doesn’t truly know you, no less.”
Perhaps that is why she settles into this role so easily. It’s not quite a confession booth, but the anonymity is there (perhaps not as much for the passengers, given how strong the resemblance is to Atsuko, but that’s neither here nor there).
Abel Lazarus “I’ve done terrible things, but right now I feel like it’s never going to get better. Like I’ll always… Make it worse once I try.”
Sister lets out a soft breath.
“……I understand you completely. In another life, back off of this train… I was a criminal. A criminal that saw no true fault in my actions until it was too late.” Now didn’t that sound familiar? “I’m no longer that same person, but… I found forgiveness in the church. Well… not the church itself, it was the people.” And it was primarily her, more than anybody.
“Since then, and coming here… I felt myself truly change. I had already… changed quite a bit, but by the time I found the church, I was completely dejected. I had given up. But… I found someplace I wasn’t alone. And although it’s certainly stressful and harrowing at times, the trials this train might put you through… I feel as though this train for you has the potential to be for you what she—” Sister clears her throat. "—the church was for me.
“…What I mean to say is… I couldn’t have come as far as I am now alone, without people setting me on the right path. I didn’t have that in my life for a long, long time… And I can sense there is… hostility, among all of you. But I wish for you all to understand that you aren’t alone.” This much is familiar too, but to the words of a certain moth. If Sister had passed through that car before this one, perhaps it’s not just a coincidence.
“…As for you… you can’t guarantee that you will make things worse unless you do try. You want to get better. That’s the first step, and you don’t need to take that step by yourself.”
