To cafe: Tea and Medicine(Frankie and Angeleanna)

[Frankie Guidicini]

Date: August 7
Time: 6:45 p.m.

After a quick visit to the med bay to insure that Frankie was truly alright, Angeleanna and Frankie found themselves walking the hallways, ultimately heading to the cafeteria. "I don't understand what the Bureau was thinking putting a man like that in here with such a weak guard!" Frankie was saying as they walked, referencing the man who had shot her, among other things. Most of the blood had flaked off, so Frankie looked semi-normal, except for the ripped and bloodied clothing. She could stop and change into a new set, but she honestly didn't care. Plus, she thought with a dark smile, blood adds character.

The cafeteria was blessedly empty when they entered, and Frankie made a beeline for the hot water thermoses and hot drink mixes. She grabbed a cup and saucer and a few bags of Earl Grey as she continued talking. "I'm just thankful that the guards are going to be ok, and you and Pierce weren't hurt. Otherwise...Well, I think the Bureau frowns on agents killing each other. Someone should have told him that."

[Sister Angeleanna]

Angeleanna followed beside Frankie, the long folds of her habit swayed heavily behind her, as she looked more the part of towering holy woman then agent. Coupled with the bloody woman, they made quite the pair walking through the Bureau’s corridors. With her hands folded, she felt the wet edges of her sleeves where she had washed the man’s blood at the medical station. A nurse had caught sight of it and nearly dragged the nun to be checked over before Angel was able to explain the blood wasn’t her. She was nonetheless gracious that the woman had been able to spot the dark spots along the black sleeve and was willing to help wash out the stains before they set. Blood was a sad staple in her life and more habits had been unrecoverable during harsher assignments.

She glanced sideways at Francesca, twisting in her steps slightly to acknowledge listening and returned to looking down the hall towards their goal, the cafeteria. “I like to wonder too, but isn’t it marvelous that God has given us this chance to interact with someone we would normally not. Granted, the encounter was foreseeable now in hindsight but no lives were lost.” She glanced down at the floor, her eyes trailing along the simple concrete lines. “We must be grateful and I am equally grateful you were not permanently harmed Miss Francesca.” The nun reached out to bridge the gap between them and lightly rested her fingertips on the woman’s arm.

Upon entering the cafeteria, Angeleanna lifted her head slightly and slowly took a deep breath. The peculiar smell of floor cleaner mixed with brewing coffee had an odd place in her heart. It always reminded her of her convent and while she sometimes became homesick, she only strengthened her resolve that God had given her a purpose outside of the Abbey walls. She trailed behind Frankie, taking the time to study her state of dress and the dismissive wave she gave to her own injuries in favor of others. It was an admirable trait that more people needed to share. Curling her fingers around a cup she took the still wet mug and flipped it over and debated on the choices of drink.

“Sometimes, when an animal is caged or backed into a corner it becomes scared and frightened. It will only lash out in the most reasonable way it knows.” A frown line of concentration appeared as Angel picked through the tea packets and eyed the thermos of coffee. “Of course, man and animal are separate beings and it in no way excuses the actions that were taken today.” She picked coffee, decaf with several little packets of cream and casually stirred a little red stirring straw through it, making the dark liquid blossom into a pale brown.

“We do not know the reasoning in which he was brought here. It is however unfortunate but who are to judge a man.” The nun sighed quietly and stared into the vague reflection of light in her coffee. She did want to meet with the man and she wished it were under better circumstances. “Would you care for a cookie or scone?” Angel scooted a step over and raised a hand towards the platter of various goodies.

[Frankie Guidicini]

>>“Sometimes, when an animal is caged or backed into a corner it becomes scared and frightened. It will only lash out in the most reasonable way it knows.”<<

As Angeleanna said this, Frankie was filling her cup with hot water, letting the stream from the spout of the thermos run over the tea-bag she had opened and placed in the cup. The sister's words recalled Frankie's first memory of coming to the states, especially her following words.

>>“Of course, man and animal are separate beings and it in no way excuses the actions that were taken today.”<<

Frankie had stowed away in a God-forsaken cargo hold that smelled of mildew, rat excrement, and decayed fish. Somewhere in her mind, she thought that perhaps she could find Stella once she arrived in the United States. That was before she was discovered and, not knowing what to do, ejected her bones. The crew members shot at her, and though she was hit, she didn't die. Frankie lashed out at the men in animal-like rage, cutting one's ear off, and then hid herself in a box she had emptied. The next thing she knew, a professor was calling out to her in the dark, and when she came forward, he treated her as an equal, not as a freak. Professor Broom, God rest him, was a decent man.

"Oh dear." In Frankie's daydreaming, she had let the boiling water overflow the rim of the cup. She grabbed a thick wad of napkins from the dispenser and mopped up the very weak tea that escaped. "I suppose so, in fact, I heartily agree." She said as she cleaned up the mess she made. She did not like the new man in the least, but she would try and soften her disposition, if only for the nun who had shown the man the least bit of humanity. "He'd best learn his manners." She offered. "And maybe I can teach them to him, who knows?" She smiled softly at Angel and sipped from her cup, lowering the water level so that she could dunk her tea bags into the water successfully.

>>“Would you care for a cookie or scone?”<<

"Thank you." Frankie chose a light, fluffy scone and wrapped it in a napkin. As scones went by American standards, they were pretty decent. Nothing she'd want to offer to guests in her own house, but good nonetheless. "One thing that I have admired about you, Sister..." Frankie began almost absentmindedly, "Is that you see the humanity in people when others would give up on them. Take today for instance, and the soft words you spoke to that man. I don't think I could be as forgiving and understanding as you." A smile twitched her lips upward. "But I suppose it comes with the uniform, doesn't it?"

[Sister Angeleanna]

Looking through the veritable of goodies that were made to appease a sweet tooth rather then a healthy one, Angeleanna skimmed along several pastries before spotting a lone bran muffin nearly drowning in cookies. Plucking it from the refuse of icing, she placed it atop a small plate and brought her index finger to her mouth to lick off stray icing that had stuck to the side of the muffin. She lifted her head just as she heard Francesca’s distracted comment and lifted her plate just as a little steam of tea made it’s way towards her. She dropped a napkin down on it to stem the flow but the other woman had been swift, tidying up the place before the napkin touched the counter. The nun smiled, a soft curl of her lips as she scooped a soggy napkin into the nearest trash receptacle.

"He'd best learn his manners." … "And maybe I can teach them to him, who knows?"

“I think that would be lovely and perhaps forgiveness can be attained between you two. There was a lot of… unnecessary hurt thrown about.” She scrubbed her hands together, rubbing off the last trace of crystallized sugar and added almost absently, “I do hope those two listen to common sense and see your doctor.” It was in reference to Hellboy and the young Pierce, both injured in the escapade she had missed. She clucked her tongue disapprovingly even though she knew there was nothing she could do and for good measure added one last cream to her coffee. It was funny she enjoyed coffee and the taste but not so much the bitterness. She could tell the Bureau’s coffee was brewed extra strong by the amount of packets of cream she had amounted beside her plate. Scooping them to follow her napkin in the trash she lifted the mug to her mouth and took a tentative sip.

"But I suppose it comes with the uniform, doesn't it?"

She turned to face Frankie, the cup still at her mouth as she blew gently across it as if it would help. With her tongue still burning she ran the tip of it across the inside of her teeth and smiled broadly, this time lighting her whole face up. “I like to think of it this way, Miss Francesca. I wear the habit, it does not wear me. I would be a foolish woman if I thought I could hide behind my robes and hope they protect me. I am eternally grateful God has given me a gift but it is through his strength that I have been able to become who I am today.” She took another sip before picking up her bran muffin. “Anyone has the ability to be a strong soul.”

“Of course,” she added, a soft laughter to her voice. “I was quite the unruly child.” She turned towards the endless row of staggered tables. “Where shall we sit?”

[Frankie Guidicini]

Frankie finished dunking her tea bag into her cup and pulled the bag from the water, taking a spoon and squeezing out any remaining liquid before tossing the tea bag away. Frankie grabbed a saucer and two packets of honey and arranged the cup and the packets according on the saucer. She added her scone too before walking to the milk machine and adding a splash of milk to her tea. There. Now it was a proper cup of tea.

>>“I think that would be lovely and perhaps forgiveness can be attained between you two. There was a lot of… unnecessary hurt thrown about.”<<

Forgiveness? Forgiveness wasn't Frankie's forte, at least not at the present time. Other agents had described her as 'harsh,' 'bitter,' and her personal favorite, 'bitch-tastic,' but since become acquainted with Sister Angeleanna, she was beginning to think maybe she could show a more humane side, but not too much. After all, she had a reputation to uphold.

>>“I like to think of it this way, Miss Francesca. I wear the habit, it does not wear me. I would be a foolish woman if I thought I could hide behind my robes and hope they protect me. I am eternally grateful God has given me a gift but it is through his strength that I have been able to become who I am today.”...“Anyone has the ability to be a strong soul.”<<

One of the things Frankie found refreshing about Angel was that she did have faith, but it was sensible. It wasn't rooted in superstitions or blind. "Faith...is a wonderful thing." Frankie simply said. She believed it was true but at what personal level, no one knew.

>>“Of course, I was quite the unruly child.”<<

"Sister Angeleanna, unruly?" Frankie said, her tone one of disbelief. "I believe I would have to see it to believe it, Sister. What could you have done? Run laughing through mass? Harassed some poor little animals?"

>>“Where shall we sit?” <<

"Here." Frankie chose a nice, quiet corner, just in case any others came in for a late meal. Frankie sat with her back to the wall, a habit she had earned in Russia and kept. When your back was against the wall, it was awfully hard for anyone to put a knife in it. As she setled into her chair, Frankie let out a long sigh before taking a sip of the hot tea. "Ahhh, that's a good cuppa."

[Sister Angeleanna]

"Faith...is a wonderful thing."

That it was. Angeleanna pocketed a napkin for later use and shuffled her plate and coffee cup and turned slightly only to catch her crucifix on the nearby counter. With a slight wiggle of her hips, it unlatched and swung back to its rightful place at her waist, the long train of beads clacking gently. Her smile twisted in a wry grin, a thin line of teeth appearing between parted lips as she gently shook her head, the heavy cloth of her cowl swaying thickly.

"Sister Angeleanna, unruly?"

“I gave my foster families quite a run for their money.” It was neither shame nor pride that tinted her words but a curious tone of remembrance. It was sad times but she felt without that breaking down of her character, she could have not rebuilt herself into a better person, even as a child. The nun followed the woman, taking the time to look at the back of the bloody outfit. It had dried in certain spots and with some of the material too dark to see the blood, she was slowly coming to peace with it. At least she hadn’t taken a napkin, licked it and started wiping away residual pink smudges. Angeleanna took the seat closest to Francesca on her left and set her things down before pulling her chair out. It scrapped nosily as she smooth the edges of her skirt and settled her tall frame into it, pushing forward a little.

Leaning back in her chair, Angel closed her eyes slowly and played the word over her in mind. “Cuppa.” She repeated in a soft whisper and laughed softly at the memory that accompanied. She opened her eyes and curled her head towards her companion. “I haven’t heard that since I worked with a Brother Matthew.” She leaned forward slightly and folded her hands on the edge of the table. “He was this wonderful British gentlemen, he made his tea just like yours and he was quite gifted with a… oh, what is it called.” The nun tapped her fingers against the table thoughtfully before pulling her plate closer to her to peel the muffin’s waxy cover. “A tonfa, I believe but with blades. Simply amazing, much like yourself today.”

[Frankie Guidicini]

Frankie sipped a corner of the scone into her tea to just soften the pastry minimally before taking a bite. It was no product afternoon tea back home, but the scone would do. At least it wasn't dried and rock hard.

>>“I gave my foster families quite a run for their money.”<<

Frankie smiled at Angel and the almost dreamy tone she used. "I think I have forgotten how...curious young girls can be...so I suppose I can believe the thought of you being unruly." With a smile tugging at her lips, Frankie remembered Stella snatching Henry's doctor's bag and operating on her teddy bear that Frankie acquired for her from a short endeavor to America. Stella removed the stuffing and, realizing that she had disemboweled her bear, dissolved into tears. When Henry returned home, he took the bear into a very laborious surgery and returned the teddy bear as good as new.

Frankie's remembrance was dissolved by Angel's next words.

>>“Cuppa...I haven’t heard that since I worked with a Brother Matthew...He was this wonderful British gentlemen, he made his tea just like yours and he was quite gifted with a… oh, what is it called...A tonfa, I believe but with blades. Simply amazing, much like yourself today.”<<

"You know, Americans may belong to the leader of the free world and given the world all sorts of things like peanut butter and the light bulb, but they still can't make a good cuppa, or have vocabulary that describes a cuppa as well as 'cuppa.'" She took another sip. "Tonfa, eh? I appreciate the compliment, but I'm afraid if I utilized tonfa, I would very possibly grievously injure someone. And not on purpose, either!" Frankie smiled darkly. "Reminds me of the gass mask and tonfa in one of the display cases from that...thing Kroenen that Hellboy defeated a few years ago."

[Sister Angeleanna]

Curling her mouth, Angeleanna peeled one small section of the waxy paper off her muffin to only succeed in breaking it into smaller pieces. The muffin was not going to win this one. Digging her thumbs into the middle she split it in half tearing the paper around it. Triumphantly she set it back on her plate and pulled the middle part out and popped it into her mouth. She chewed with deliberation and attempted to sort through the spices that had covered the natural bran flavor. Angel wiped the crumbs from her hands and took a sip of her coffee.

"I think I have forgotten how...curious young girls can be...so I suppose I can believe the thought of you being unruly."

She smiled, swallowing and allowed the coffee to wash away the sharp cinnamon bite of her muffin. “The days of youth. Let no man despise thy youth, but be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity. I cannot begin to count the times this verse has helped me.” The nun kept her posture, sitting slightly forward and folded her hands around her cup.

“but they still can't make a good cuppa, or have vocabulary that describes a cuppa as well as 'cuppa.'"

“I suppose you’re right, America is the melting pot of so many different cultures and languages. Sometimes, sadly, things become a little muddled in the process. Brother Matthew never liked the way I made tea either.” The nun’s eyes crinkled as the care lines deepened around them. “Made quite a fuss too but I believe I simply need someone to teach me how to make a fine cup of tea.” The friendship of others was a wonderful thing and though a few had kept their distance, she had felt welcomed and was deemed to know everyone she came into contact with.

“...thing Kroenen that Hellboy defeated a few years ago.”

The smile slightly faded from the nun and she reached up to touch the cross that hung beneath the white cowl. She curled her fingers around it and furrowed her brow. “It is an awful sadness that such evil,” the word felt foreign on her lips. “would turn a young man.” The agent that had been with her for the grand tour had been kind enough to give a brief story but stopped when the elder woman had started to tear up. It had been a sorrowful tale of wrongdoings and the agent scrubbed the back of his head before leading the woman on to talk about something else.

Squeezing the cross, Angel released it and folded her hands on her lap. “Have you ever worked with a blade before? You move as if you have.”

[Frankie Guidicini]

Frankie drained her cup and sighed contentedly before eating the rest of her scone as Angel spoke.

>>“I suppose you’re right, America is the melting pot of so many different cultures and languages. Sometimes, sadly, things become a little muddled in the process. Brother Matthew never liked the way I made tea either.” The nun’s eyes crinkled as the care lines deepened around them. “Made quite a fuss too but I believe I simply need someone to teach me how to make a fine cup of tea.”<<

"No offense is meant, honestly. It's just...well, when you're raised to a standard, as far as tea goes, you just can't let it be passed up so easily! Here, I'll tell you the very simple gist of it, sister." Frankie rolled her shoulders back, as if preparing to give a sermon. "Brew in a ceramic kettle, not a metal one. Metal can make the tea taste funny. Let the tea-bag sit in the kettle according to taste, but not too long. I prefer tea leaves, actually, and then pour my tea through a strainer. Anyhow, whiten it with milk and sweeten to taste. It's much better than that bitter draught Americans drink." Frankie made a face. "My governess and I used to have the best afternoon teas before the first war." She had a dreamy look on her face but snapped out of it.

>>“It is an awful sadness that such evil,” the word felt foreign on her lips. “would turn a young man.”<<

Frankie became quiet. "Well, that's why we're in this business, eh? To stop the evil and maybe prevent it." She paused and tried to joke. "Or maybe it's for the delightful cafeteria food. Especially the hot dogs and whatever Mondays."

>>Squeezing the cross, Angel released it and folded her hands on her lap. “Have you ever worked with a blade before? You move as if you have.” <<

Frankie laughed. "Only in the kitchen, maybe. The way I move was taught to me by Britain's similar agency. There were other unique people there, and they marked where my bones extract with red paint and with them marking what I hit, I was able to learn how to make my body..." She paused, "Do what it does. And after more than fifty years, I still keep progressing. A deadly art, but necessary in some way."

[Sister Angeleanna]

Angeleanna couldn’t hide her delighted amusement as Francesca recited instructions as if a prayer. She set her cup down with a little clatter and folded her hands, nearly disappearing under the wide sleeves of her habit. She listened with rapt attention, taking into account of the difference of kettles to use and the use of milk. That was different from her normal tea making and would definitely have to sample the use of it on her next go around. With her half eaten muffin ignored she leaned slightly forward in earnest and nodded sympathetically at the mention of bitter tea. There had been numerous times she had lost track of time of how long her tea steeped and turned out to be strong enough to pucker her lips. She remained in polite silence when her companion faded off but just as fast the softening hardened to its normal form. It was so easy to overlook the true age of the young looking woman, the things she must have seen were a marvel concept to the nun.

"Well, that's why we're in this business, eh? To stop the evil and maybe prevent it." … "Or maybe it's for the delightful cafeteria food. Especially the hot dogs and whatever Mondays."

“I like to think of it as more volunteer work.” She wrinkled her nose and finished the last of her coffee and stared ruefully at the rest of her bran muffin. “No one should be forced to work against the wicked and unjust. It is a choice everyone is given, no matter how little or big their part may be.” Tearing off a corner she popped it into her mouth and chewed before casually covering her mouth and brought the napkin up. “The kitchen staff work exceptionally hard to feed those with a cast iron stomach.” She spoke behind it though the faint care lines around her eyes spoke of a wide grin. The nun wiped her mouth and folded the napkin and set it beside her plate. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t blessed with one of those. I’m a very dull eater.”

"Do what it does. And after more than fifty years, I still keep progressing. A deadly art, but necessary in some way."

“Fifty years of service? That is a impressive stance, I should do well to take advice from you, Miss Francesca.” Angeleanna ran the side of her hand across the table, picking up a few crumbs to dump on her empty plate. “One I wished that would never be necessary. Peace cannot be attained but lived." She smiled softly. "It’s much easier said then done, isn’t it?”

[Frankie Guidicini]

>>“I like to think of it as more volunteer work.” She wrinkled her nose and finished the last of her coffee and stared ruefully at the rest of her bran muffin. “No one should be forced to work against the wicked and unjust. It is a choice everyone is given, no matter how little or big their part may be.”<<

"I could argue with the volunteer bit." Frankie said quietly. "A bunch of our fellows...Well, if they don't go here, where else do they go? They can hide, they can run, but they can't ever be really free to walk the streets. Take Hellboy and Abe for example. They aren't as lucky as some of us. They can't hide what's inside." Her words were jaded the product of many years of knowing she was a 'freak' so some people, and the coping that allowed her to get by. She sighed and finished the rest of her scone. "But I think out of the two of us, I'm the pessimist, eh?"

>>“Unfortunately, I wasn’t blessed with one of those. I’m a very dull eater.”<<

Frankie grinned. "Yes. They do a decent job, except where some of the pastries are concerned in my opinion. But Hot Dog and Macaroni Mondays? I'm not even sure those two foods have the same nationality. Who thought that up?"

>>“Fifty years of service? That is a impressive stance, I should do well to take advice from you, Miss Francesca.” <<

"I'm afraid my advice is a bit tainted. You, good sister, can be hurt easily. I can't, which has made me a bit reckless, as my former adviser, Comrade Clementovich, informed me. I could try and give you advice, but I think it would be deterrent. Not that I won't if you ask me."

>>"One I wished that would never be necessary. Peace cannot be attained but lived." She smiled softly. "It’s much easier said then done, isn’t it?” <<

"Aye, it is." Frankie sighed. "So many lives in this world are affected because of war. Mother, father, wives, husbands lost..." She swallowed hard and touched the ring on her left hand fondly. "And most of the time it's for ideals that don't work anyway. It's a terrible shame, and a terrible crime against humanity itself. Though I could argue against the definition of humanity meaning 'caring' or something close to it." She laughed dryly. "Again with the pessimism, you see."

[Sister Angeleanna]

“…Take Hellboy and Abe for example. They aren't as lucky as some of us.”

“Are they?” Angeleanna pursed her mouth biting lightly on the inside of her cheek as she carefully thought through her words. “Those that are different from what the world considers normal often have better insight. They see through different eyes and they see what the world does not. Our planet is a very harsh world but it still gives us choices. God has given us the ability for free will and to choose our own paths. What keeps Mr. Hellboy and Mr. Sapien from working for the other side? It is their choice, even if it is a less then a perfect one.”

"But I think out of the two of us, I'm the pessimist, eh?"

“I suppose that makes me the optimistic one?” The smile widened. “You should stop me before I really get going, I’m afraid I will talk your ear off if you let me.” Angeleanna leaned forward and kicked out a foot, balancing the heel of her boot on the floor. At the mention of food, she nodded. “I’m not entirely sure but I enjoyed it immensely as a child, it seems to be a favorite pastime food. Good for nostalgic reasons.”

"I'm afraid my advice is a bit tainted. You, good sister, can be hurt easily.”

“Compared to your gifts, most definitely but as you consider yourself reckless, I’ve turned towards more of a conserved method. I welcome all forms of counsel, a person learns more by listening then turning a ear. I warmly accept any.” She casually skidded her heel lightly across the floor. “Clementovich? That’s Russian, am I correct? You’ll have to forgive my bothersome questions, I have not had the pleasure of reading everyone’s dossier in full.”

“…Though I could argue against the definition of humanity meaning 'caring' or something close to it." … "Again with the pessimism, you see."

Drawing her foot back, the nun leaned forward and stretched out a hand to touch Francesca’s nearest arm, unbothered that less then an hour ago violent thorn like bones had ripped through the bloodied clothing. She caught a stiff part of the material where drops of blood has dried and hardened. “Humanity… the quality of being compassionate, is it fair of us to judge all, where some have fallen? Then it is only fair that we love unconditionally. I find it less tiresome and more enjoyable then being a sourpuss.” She raised a bushy brow lightly at her company. “It binds us together to make for a stronger hold rather then to let us stand alone and be torn apart.”

[Frankie Guidicini]

>>“Are they?” Angeleanna pursed her mouth biting lightly on the inside of her cheek as she carefully thought through her words. “Those that are different from what the world considers normal often have better insight. They see through different eyes and they see what the world does not. Our planet is a very harsh world but it still gives us choices. God has given us the ability for free will and to choose our own paths. What keeps Mr. Hellboy and Mr. Sapien from working for the other side? It is their choice, even if it is a less then a perfect one.”<<

Frankie thought on the sister's words. "I can see what you're saying. The feeling of being ostracized, kept from the world they're trying to save...But it must make things black and white in a sense. And here I am talking about colors. Black, white, red, blue...maybe it is just the soul that matters. Of course."

>>“I suppose that makes me the optimistic one?” The smile widened. “You should stop me before I really get going, I’m afraid I will talk your ear off if you let me.”<<

Frankie chuckled softly. "Yes, well...We have the time, and you are one of the few that I enjoy the company of, sister. And you don't turn away from me when I approach, like some of the suits. Me and my lovely reputation." She sighed.

>>“Compared to your gifts, most definitely but as you consider yourself reckless, I’ve turned towards more of a conserved method. I welcome all forms of counsel, a person learns more by listening then turning a ear. I warmly accept any.” She casually skidded her heel lightly across the floor. “Clementovich? That’s Russian, am I correct? You’ll have to forgive my bothersome questions, I have not had the pleasure of reading everyone’s dossier in full.”<<

"As long as you take my counsel with a grain of salt, then, I'm sure it'll be fine. Clementovich is Russian. I spent over thirty-years in the barren and cold land working against Communism. I think the cold helped my cynicism develop, as well as the commies. Hellboy likes to call them Ruskies when we speak."

>>“Humanity… the quality of being compassionate, is it fair of us to judge all, where some have fallen? Then it is only fair that we love unconditionally. I find it less tiresome and more enjoyable then being a sourpuss.” She raised a bushy brow lightly at her company. “It binds us together to make for a stronger hold rather then to let us stand alone and be torn apart.”<<

For the first time that evening, Frankie was speechless. Her words...were beautiful. What tugged at Frankie's heartstrings most was that Angeleanna said them because she meant and believed them. Frankie hadn't seen such honesty or goodness in over a century of living, except in one person. "I think you and my Henry would have gotten on well..." Frankie said softly, it was almost a whisper. "You both have the same decent soul inside of you. If the world had more people such as yourself, it wouldn't be as terrible as I see it."

[Sister Angeleanna]

“…And here I am talking about colors. Black, white, red, blue...maybe it is just the soul that matters. Of course."

“The soul is of great matter, our bodies are but temples to house them. It is very much an important part of our being but while the body grows, it is the soul that will remain even after everything has turned to dust. It is a very rough world to distinguish the proverbial white and black of wrong and right. Is it right, is it fair to cast judgment on the unnorm? It is so easy to yes or no, but to believe it is a far bigger lecture then you or I.” Angeleanna sighed almost wearily and studied the crumb littered plate in front of her. “Which brings us back to faith, faith in everything. Our Lord, our strength and our world.”

"Yes, well...We have the time, and you are one of the few that I enjoy the company of, sister. And you don't turn away from me when I approach, like some of the suits. Me and my lovely reputation."

“And I do so enjoy your company as well Miss Francesca. I personally do not see why anyone would turn away if you treat them as well as you’ve treated me.” The nun lifted her gaze to met the woman’s. “What sort of a reputation would a woman of your stature have?” She smiled easily, she could never really help it though. It seemed to be a permanent gesture etched into her features and the faint lines around her the corner of her mouth spoke of the countless times she had done so. She smiled, curious of the answer she would receive and humble to obtain even the simplest of answers as her companioned continued on about her time spent working for the better good.

A picture of the persona Frankie wore was beginning to become clearer but to the nun, she looked beyond a first impression. She was not blind that her colleague could put the rough front on, there was always a time and place needed for that but it took a patience to keep looking and to see just who the other person was. Even today, she was ever learning and today she was gaining a brilliant if albeit hardly seen insight of her associate.

"You both have the same decent soul inside of you. If the world had more people such as yourself, it wouldn't be as terrible as I see it."

She had to lean forward slightly and strain to hear the words of the woman and the deep meaning was not lost in the soft voice. “I would be most humbled to have known your Henry.” Angel tilted her head slightly, causing a faint wrinkle in the stiff white yoke as she drew a shoulder slightly up. “We aren’t that rare of a breed, your Bureau is a shinning example of good of all sorts of kinds.” She pursed her lips before adding, “I don’t see the world as a terrible place, just lost.”

[Frankie Guidicini]

>>“What sort of a reputation would a woman of your stature have?”<<

Frankie contemplated, picking out some of the nastier things she'd heard behind her back before answering the sister. "Ice queen. Hag. And a certain word that is a bit too vulgar for me to repeat in front of you and still feel comfortable." She smiled slowly. "After everything that has happened to me I am not terribly friendly at first glance. I do come off as harsh and cold, I confess. I think it is mostly because..." She hesitated. "I do not want to make connections, make friends because I will just end up being let down when they eventually die and I do not. The world changes, times change, empires rise and fall, yet I remain constant. And alone. One of the reasons I am glad to be here, though, is Abe and Hellboy -- They are both like me in the respect of their longevity. They may be immortal, and I am not sure that I will remain untouched by the years, but so far...There is no natural death in sight for me. It is a very lonely aspect, and a hard lesson learned after losing Henry and then losing contact with Stella. When I joined the BPRD, I found her. She died in the sixties. Had a son, but I would be a stranger to him. I don't think he'd quite believe me if I told him I was his grandmother. He's in his sixties..." Frankie looked as if she was far away for a moment and then came back, smiling softly. "I'm sorry. I think I went off on a tangent there."

>>“I would be most humbled to have known your Henry.” Angel tilted her head slightly, causing a faint wrinkle in the stiff white yoke as she drew a shoulder slightly up. “We aren’t that rare of a breed, your Bureau is a shinning example of good of all sorts of kinds.” She pursed her lips before adding, “I don’t see the world as a terrible place, just lost.” <<

Frankie smiled sadly, fiddling with the sthingy in her teacup. "Yes, yes. This lost world reveres those most unlike yourself and Henry, though. I think that is why I lose faith so easily." Frankie looked at Angeleanna, sad smile still in place, and pushed the bench she was seated on away. "Thank you for the stimulating conversation, sister." She scratched her scalp, a few flakes of dried blood drifting to the table as she did. "I shall need a long bath tonight." She said half-jokingly.