The Sin and the Sinner [private, Sondra please]

[Leo Varniak]

"I figured you'd see that one," Leo remarked, gently rapping his fingertips on the table's surface, "there have been other mistakes, but none of them quite like it. I can hardly believe I could have done such a sloppy job. You are mistaken on one point only, Sondra. I may not have killed myself, but I did pass judgment."

"I have an uncommon fondness of lists, especially lists of names. Who knows, maybe my own name is on the list, and whatever the judgment is, it is merely delayed… a temporary reprieve, if you will. Or maybe my sentence has been converted into something else, and I am already serving my term. I have been personally targetted for elimination by the god of evil; he is willing to apply excessive force to destroy me and anything within two or three degrees of separation. Many people would consider that an acceptable sentence for a count of manslaughter." Obviously Leo thought nothing of killing the man - his guilt only concerned the woman. To think otherwise would undermine the very pillars of his personality. He stared at Sondra intently but subconsciously, eyes hardly blinking, taking in the quick succession of her reactions. She was interesting, even likeable. He would not be telling her that much if he felt differently about her.

He frowned a little as the comment about Ivak's blood influencing him sank in. He had heard similar words from Glav as well as the Azenth messenger girl before. "I never made any claim to goodness. Fighting evil does not automatically make you good. When I was little, I discovered I had a highly destructive side that builds slowly over time, like steam in a kettle. Courtesy of my ancestry, maybe. Or maybe not. I decided to target the bad guys with it. I made up rules that seemed to make sense."

Sondra's last question still made him nervous. Leo folded his arms across his chest somewhat defensively. "Indeed, you do know now. Please understand I took a significant risk, but it was the least I could do after you jumped into my half-suicidal quest almost without hesitation. Thing is, much as I hate to say it, my judgment is sometimes mistaken. You saw one instance of it. There are probably more, some of which I remain blissfully unaware of. My viewpoint is… limited at times."

The admission made him uncomfortable, as if it sounded wrong coming from him. "I must confess, when you joined, I kind of hoped you would, well, do the things Konti are famous for. But you've made it clear you just sample people's sins for your own salvation these days." His voice dropped to a whisper, but Leo was entirely serious and his voice betrayed his expectation. "I realized more things about myself and the world in a bell spent with a Konti seer named Kasav'i than in the twenty-two years that came before. Then Rhysol took her away, snapped her life like a twig. I was helpless as I watched his power toss her aside like a ragdoll. I thought nothing could hurt me anymore, and right there and then Rhysol proved me wrong."

"I guess what I mean with all this babbling, is that… it's not fair to just read people's sins like a lottery and hope you draw a good one." A fire was slowly lighting up in Leo's eyes - one could only wonder if his ears would start smoking soon. "Please, consider returning to active duty, Sondra. It's the main reason I wanted to talk, actually. I need an advisor, someone to tell me frankly I'm being an idiot when I am. Someone I can nag about quitting the drink without her taking offense. I am no powerful politician or community leader, but my task is possibly more important than either one and I only know how to destroy." It had not been easy to express the feeling that no, he couldn't do this alone. Nevertheless, Leo was not so stupid as to not realize his own shortcomings, and Sondra was the one Lhex had thrown his way. She was as unlikely a guide as the supposed world savior in front of her. Yet the proposition had been made.

[Sondra]

Leo's frankness and discomfort did more to influence Sondra than his logic and gift for articulation. Genuineness was a rare bird to her, mostly since she was used to seeing sources of hypocrisy.

Leo's story about the Konti being snapped into pieces by Rhysol was like a blunt instrument to Sondra's gut. She knew some of the breadth of evil, but this was close to home. Sondra wasn't invincible, her delicate spine could be the next thing in the gods wrathful hands, and they were on a path to meet him.

As Leo's conversation tapered to his final point, the slouching Konti began to rise to attention, her eyes widening.
"Whoa, hold on, Leo." Her voice lowered, "I'm not perfect either. I don't always get the full picture. I can tell you what but not why."
She leaned in, "And sometimes the why is really important."

The Konti pressed her lips together and her alert posture deflated a fraction. More than anything, she seemed worried. Her fingers lightly drummed on the table, she was thinking and fast.
"I have some moments in my life if unexplained are highly incriminating. I like the benefit of the doubt," she gave a weak smirk before sinking into contemplation again.

Leo might be fixed on doling out judgmental flames regardless of her insight. Did she let him loose and wash her hands of it, or did she try to point him in better directions? It would be like trying to contain a wildfire, a smart one at that.

But (a dangerous word) there was something she trusted about Leo or at least liked. He took a huge chance on her, welcomed her into something meaningful when she was in the midst of spiraling down. As a Konti she had sworn loyalty and her word bound her like blood bound family.

"I'm not going to pick them out for you, but I'll vet them," she suddenly announced.
"There's some sins that are wrong no matter what. Other's tend to be nuanced. Even I do some footwork before I start swinging."

Neither of them were what most would call well-balanced. Each had a gift or curse that overtook the organic parts of their personality and insisted on defining them. Leo was noticing their gifts complemented one another in an exceptionally fortunate way.

Sondra was ignoring her ale now, though one mug was just about done.
"Ever think it's not our place to punish people? Or are we like this for a reason?"
Her voice turned young as she considered questions she had no answer to. Sondra didn't leave much space for a reply, it was the kind of inquiry one had to answer on their own.

Sondra lightly kicked Leo's shin under the table.
"By the way, accidental murder should get you off that list of yours." The tight vigilance in her posture was bleeding out.
"I agree the powers that be are making ample punishment, anyway."

The Konti smiled with a touch of wickedness, "You're very popular with the upper echelon, Leo. I don't envy you."

The worst part of their encounter was over. Sondra was neither horrified nor refreshed, keeping her status quo. Her invasive questions, save one, were tapering out, allowing the rest to be discovered through the natural processes of time and patience.

The lingering question was not the sort she could discover whether Leo like it or not. The answer was for him to divulge or harbor.

She prefaced her curiosity with a bit of an appeasement. Pushing the second mug of ale away, Sondra quipped,
"For now, I'll lay off. If you feel up to nagging me out of the habit, by all means. We'll see who gets tired first."
It was a challenge, more friendly than adversarial, but still the gauntlet had been laid down.

"So, Leo," she began, "Why did you set your house on fire? I assume it wasn't a roast goose gone horribly wrong."

[Leo Varniak]

Leo looked relieved by Sondra's words. He was definitely not good at socializing, but perhaps the Konti had a knack for figuring him out. He expected nothing less of the seers, and the more Sondra downplayed herself as one, the more he convinced himself that she would make a great advisor. Before embarking in this quest, Leo had always considered allies as liabilities who could turn on you at any time and for any reason. Now that he was forced to seek assistance, though, he had to admit there was comfort to be found in a burden shared. He hoped this weakness would not come biting back at him later.

"You are the advisor," he cracked a smile, "you decide how best you can help. Telling me how your gift works would be like teaching colors to the blind. I have established you are someone whose judgment is worthy of respect. That much is enough on my end." He shrugged lightly, his posture also relaxing bit by bit. It was not the easiest thing in the world, keeping one's guard up all the time. He'd rather have the support of a good-willed imperfect Konti than that of a perfect demigod who hoped to shed the demi out of the deal.

He said nothing to her rhetorical questions. He did not have answers, but he knew lions hunted, gazelles ran, and he fought evil. Nature. Something you could not suppress. He felt his shin kicked lightly, and blinked in mild surprise. "You never know, I keep a lot of lists of varying severity. Kick list is number 53, if you're curious to know." A lighter tone of voice now, one that had lost the awkwardness of the pre-breaking the ice. Leo was not without humor, albeit of a rather dark nature.

She pushed the mug away. That meant she was about to ask something of him, he thought. A token of good will to capture someone's benevolence? He nodded slowly at the question. "That was not a sin, and your powers seem to agree, don't they?" He leaned closer and looked left and right before continuing. Delicate subject matter incoming. "You are the first person to learn about this from my mouth without a scrying bowl."

There was no reason for Sondra not to know now. "I told you about my father's alcohol addiction and domestic violence. Not my real father, though… We are talking about the Varniak, not the Zaital. I have never met my real father in person, only through a letter. Allistir Varniak owned a ceramic business here in Syliras. My mother Lina was his most skilled employee - he probably married her so he didn't have to pay her. He never liked me, though back then I couldn't understand why. There was no resemblance between him and me, but there was a lot of it with Alvias… my real father. One day Allistir found a letter, I think, that confirmed his suspicions. He had an argument with my mother. I rushed to see what was going on. I caught the tail of the argument. He was furious."

"He strangled her in front of my eyes." Leo's eyes narrowed. "Then he moved towards me to finish the job. Big, meaty hands. Ivak came to the rescue. Unlocked latent powers he had slowly imparted on me through my dreams. I vomited fire on those hands. Seconds later, everything was on fire. End of story."

He sighed. "Not."

"Kasav'i said my mother's alive, Sondra. 'Too powerful a creature to be stopped by his hand.' It's not just the upper echelon. Everything in my life is a hundred layers of mess. Nothing true. Nothing simple." He was pensive for about three seconds. "Probably not the only messy life, judging by the way your exposed hand avoids the rest of you like the plague and a few rather trivial reasoning steps afterwards, but you do not have to say anything other than 'yes' or 'no' to that." He added, somewhat light-heartedly.

[Sondra]

At the mention of list 53, Sondra's mouth twitched into a quick smile.
"A list that will live in infamy."

When Leo presented his violent history, the Konti just listened with a serious knit to her brow. She didn't fidget much when listening, most her tics were reserved for when she was talking.

Konti had an eery way of always seeming like they were hearing more than what you said. Mostly raised amongst each other, the pale women had adopted this habit, either because they really were reading you or because it was the way their mother's and sister's behaved. Mimicry of one another proved powerful in establishing Konti persona's to outsiders.

Leo had been born of fire and tried by the same. Living with a drunk meant being able to dodge what most never saw coming. It was a constant state of anticipation and living in a house of chronic anger. Some would counteract the chaos with absolute control, or mirror the parent's fits with outsiders.
Sondra was slowly building a proper foundation for Leo in her thoughts, each brick more interesting than the last.

"Of course your mother still lives," she scoffed, "Closure would be too easy and therefore unrealistic."
Sondra said nothing about her parentage, most Kontis were barely bastards.
"But that fact is a happy mess. At least I think it is."

Leo's astute observations were countered with a neat grim smile.
"In Mizahar, you're not anybody unless you've killed somebody."

She wanted that ale right now, to just drink the rest of it and more until it didn't matter. She glanced to the mug and her foot tapped impatiently.
Remembering the minor promise to herself, the Konti looked away from temptation.
"Let's just say I'm not going back to Avanthal anytime soon."

It was unfair and Sondra knew it. She read others and pried out secrets, but was loathe to share her own. The Konti knew what knowledge could do to a companion's opinion.

"Or Mura for that matter, but for different reasons. My Grandmother is a persuasive and powerful woman. She bartered me for the 'greater good' instead of my own. We don't get on very well."

Sondra idly pulled at the cord around her neck, twisting it around her finger.
"Avanthal's sins go deeper than carelessness. They might earn me a more prominent place on your tallies."

Her fingertips toyed with the idea of clutching the tranquility medallion, but decided otherwise.
"Unfairly, I'd like to be known first. It'd be a pity if all you saw was sin."
A quick, sad smile as she added, "I'm used to making the division. Others, not so much."
Especially those who relished destroying the wicked.

The human was keen to her now, but what would happen when he learned the last man she pledged to had his intestines twined round her knife? Self-defense was a hard claim when a mind and vision could change in seconds. If Gregoire had been able to skin his dagger, would he really have gone through with it? In those perilous seconds the white witch had decided she was more important than a man who would set her aside for a whore.

"Well," Sondra began again, "I feel bad for Terminus. Winning as we may be, he has been bound to a rather messy pair and he seems like such a nice man. Who recommended him to you anyway?"

[Leo Varniak]

Ah, so she wasn't going to open up on this day. That in itself was an admission of guilt, but Leo's own reputation as a punisher may have a lot to do with the decision. What he could infer from Sondra's scattered sentences was that she had killed someone in Avanthal. Then again, criminals rarely confessed to their crimes. They always feigned ignorance, blamed someone else, blamed the victim or blamed the system. Sondra's attitude was not that of a felon. She was not trying to deny. Her kill must not have been a casual one, and she blamed herself.

Leo could see that dealing with people was complicated. Making friends made it very difficult and unpleasant to have to look at their crimes and judge them to his usual standards. He wondered if it was his weakness or wisdom doing the talking. His gut was telling him Sondra could just spill the truth and everything would be fine, but what if he was wrong? And of course the Konti must be thinking the same. They wouldn't know until she actually told him. "Fair enough, everyone is entitled to a secret or two," he conceded. "I can't see myself ever hurting a comrade. That is something Rhysol's people would do. Most likely you are making amends the same way I am. Just a word of warning, though."

"The first time I spoke with Glav, before he went all political on us, he mentioned that only two gods probably know where Ivak is kept imprisoned. Izurdin is one, and given that we are not Isur, our odds of receiving his help are very slim. The other one is Morwen, Ice Queen of Avanthal." Leo let that piece of information sink in. "Our ghosts always have a way of coming back to haunt us when we least expect it, don't they?" If Sondra wanted to permanently avoid the northern city, then she may have pledged herself to the wrong man.

He leaned back and continued. "Glav suggested that I talk to Terminus. Well, he didn't know Terminus by name, but he alerted me to his presence in Syliras and recommended him to me. I believe our demigod's judgment was correct on that count. Terminus is my polar opposite in many respects, a man of negotiation and blind faith in Ivak. He sure brings a different perspective to the team, but he can handle himself well."

"Sondra. No last name?" He asked curiously, noting that the Konti had only ever introduced herself with a first name.

[Sondra]

At Morwen's name, Sondra shuddered, feeling all the chill the white land held for her.
"Mine do at least." she weakly answered.

Sondra was happy to leave the previous subject, showing more interest than she really felt regarding Terminus's origins.
"Glav is quite the organizer," it was half compliment half suspicion, "Terminus will be good for the pair of us. He seems nonplussed by it all, the man dances in fire, though. What else am I to expect?"

Her tone altered as she stretched her words.
"You know...I don't blame Glav for wanting out, but I wonder how many bodies will make his ladder up. Men have done far worse for far less."
The Konti brightened, "On the plus side, he can't negate his nature as a scion of peace, can he?"

Just when Sondra was wishing for a prop to keep her hands still, Leo asked a more mundane question.
"K'Sondra Kore, if you haven't noticed, Konti are partial to the letter 'k', don't ask me why. I wasn't a very good student of language. I'd not swear as much if I was, or so says grandmother."

Beginning conversations at such a dramatic temperature always made the follow-up seem stilted. Maybe with practice she'd figure out how to put the horse then the cart. She'd asked men why they bludgeoned someone before exchanging names and was no stranger to beginning introductions with a shouted insult.

It was nice being asked things like her name, but she didn't know quite what to do now, especially without her social lubricant in a mug.

An awkward quiet was hastily accruing between them. Sondra had enough social awareness to know it was awkward, but not enough to know what to do about it.

"I uh--," she pushed her hand through her hair, sweeping it back from her forehead. Leo could now tell this was a particular nervous tic of hers by now.
"Let's walk. I'm not real hungry anymore." She needed to move, to be distracted.

Before Sondra stood she admitted, "I'm not good with normal conversation. I'd like to be. I mean even that party we met at. It was fiendishly difficult."
Sondra was saying more than she meant to once again. It was odd that stony Leo was easier for her to talk to. There was something downright creepy to him at times. But the human didn't flinch at anything, didn't overwhelm with his own self-centered conversation.

"I mean I watched that one woman, kelvic, thing and she looked more at ease than me. She's probably a petching two-year-old. Flitting about, talking to everyone, dancing with her lover. I'm thirty-eight and I still can't greet someone politely."
Sondra smiled ruefully, "I told someone's past there and they didn't even bother to ask my name."

Sondra was trying to build a dam against her sudden flood of information. She closed her mouth and looked away.

"How do they do it?"

[Leo Varniak]

Leo did not perceive the silence as awkward in the slightest. He was the kind of guy who said the things he wanted, when he wanted; silence suited him just fine when there was nothing to say. Sondra possessed more of the longing for a normal existence than he did. His stance did not change when she went silent. He had ordered neither food nor drink, his hands clasped in front of him like a living statue. Leo never crossed his legs; he just sat like a bas-relief of an Eypharian ruler of old, limbs stuck in square angles against the back of a throne.

"Very well," he obliged her, nodding at her desire to leave. He was never going to eat or drink anything brewed in this place; the memories of the evil den that turned Allistir Varniak into a beast were etched far too deep.

He stood in turn as he listened to her unexpected confession. Not one of sin, as he had provided, but one of character. Truth be told, he had not given much thought to Sondra's awkwardness in the crowd the night before, aside from expressing his agreement. Only now did he realize that Sondra felt sharp regret at her own inadequacy in that circumstance; Leo himself felt no bitterness at his poor socialization skills. Few people were worth socializing with in the first place.

"They are built for happiness. We aren't."

He gave Sondra a thoughtful look. "I have given up on normal conversation. I like abnormal conversation much better." And it sure showed. "You are referring to Nya Winters, Kelvic, big cat form, presumably from Taldera. On my watchlist due to wilderform's feeding habits, but cleared of guilt for the time being. We had a… slightly less than polite moment when we met." And that was abnormal conversation if there had ever been some.

Surprisingly, Leo smiled a little. "Her life is but a breath to you. Yet she finds happiness in her breath and you do not find it in yours. And you envy her. Simply the natural flow of things."

Leo's judgement carried no ill intent or implications. As usual, he was just stating facts chained in syllogisms, all serving the master.

"I have trouble understanding happiness - the state of mind that makes you wish time would stop, right? It's something that should feel familiar, but the word speaks very little to me. I suspect I have never known it. And I think you have, then somehow lost it. I wonder then, which of us is better off for it?" Happy moments for Leo were lost in the far off mist of early childhood, where the memory was gone and only a memory of the memory, a vague afterimage remained. Enough to know something existed, but nothing more. He accompanied the chair under the table, leaving everything exactly as he had found it. There would be no traces of his passage in this tavern; there would never be.

[Sondra]

Which of us is better off for it?

Sondra stopped, hovering between moving forward and opening her mouth. She stared at Leo before quietly answering.

"I don't know."
She turned her face forward, passing him in her pursuit of a way out. The room seemed overly crowded.

When her hand touched the door she stopped again.
"Even if I did," she smiled here, "It wouldn't change a petching thing."

Sondra breezily stepped into the street, fitting her hands in her pockets. The Konti was rebuilding her reckless front, reminding herself of life's constants: cruelty and opportunity. Lady Lis and Ivak saw some worth in her patchwork of experience and talents, that was enough for now.

It wasn't just the gods that favored the pair, though. They had entered into a fraternity of the odd and mortal (mostly). Each member valued the way they complimented one another. It wasn't so much that they were seeking the same things. What united them is the fact they were looking in the same direction.

"Well, Leo," Sondra adjusted her coat around her shoulders, "That was a rollicking good time."

She chuckled to dilute the comment's effect.

The Konti was grateful for the conversation, despite her off-hand jibes. It had been like the end of a vow of silence. Feelings and questions gathered weight and speed until they couldn't be stopped.
Leo understood enough to bear the weight without turning treacly. Sondra loathed pity and Leo showed little. Compassion was one thing, but pity was what you had for something in a pit beneath you.

Sondra continued in the same jocular vein, "For the future, if you ever court a girl, try to mirror your first outing on this."

The Konti fumbled in her pockets for her usual prop, a flask, remembering her current company, she let it be. Something in Leo's looks warned her that he was going to try and break her of that habit. It made her enormously nervous, especially since he had a chance at some success. Gods, she hated having nothing to do with her hands apart from hiding them in her coat.

"Well, Leo, you don't like taverns, crowds or parties. I can sympathize to an extent. What on earth have you been doing to keep busy all these years?"

Sondra wondered aloud, "Is vigilantism a full time thing?" Her curiosity turned pointed, "Any current projects?"

[Leo Varniak]

Leo idly watched Sondra pass him. Running away? He could sense a certain fear about her, a deep apprehension at being cornered, trapped either physically or metaphorically. At the same time she sought the very things that bound and caged her - addictions, commitments, pledges. Were people truly like hedgehogs, seeking each other's company by nature's instinct but only hurting themselves in the process?

"Probably," he sealed the topic without taking a firm stance. He walked slowly, pondering. It was obvious he may have shelved the discussion, but he would not forget a syllable of it. He had proven to be the type who never let go of anything. In a way, Leo Zaital existed outside linear time.

Out in the street, Sondra reverted to her usual teasing self. "Rollicking? It must have been, by my standards at least. I am not always so outgoing, you know." Her next comment came unexpectedly and made him blink. He did not answer right back, but when he did, the reply was in a similar vein, though invariably deadpanned. "Interesting Konti wisdom. So I've got the first outing covered. What about the second?"

He saw her fumbling and then stopping all of a sudden, but pretended not to notice. If this was about alcohol, as he suspected, he would not say a word. It wasn't like he had forbidden Sondra to partake of the drink. He had neither the authority nor the inclination to do such a thing. The doubts were entirely within Sondra herself, and the Azenth only planned on bringing them to her attention. Given the Konti's personality, Leo believed it was the only tactic that had a chance of working. With her, you had to show, not tell. This didn't mean Leo couldn't enjoy the battle for Sondra's sobriety a little. He did.

"It is full-time, yes," he nodded, hands in his pockets, "but only until you've stopped all the bad guys, or until you die. Whichever comes first." He shrugged lightly, as if to dispel the unfair weights he'd placed on the scales. "Whatever it is, it doesn't really feed you, especially if you don't take bounties, which I don't. I'd feel biased if I did. I've had to do the odd job just to make ends meet and that has not left a lot of time for other things. I am an avid reader when I can get my hands on a good book, though. And…"

He stopped all of a sudden. He was staring out at a stall that sold all manners of art supplies. "I like painting, as I said, but all I've ever done was ceramic painting. As a job when I was little, and as an outlet later on. Fire does look good on porcelain, but I have always been curious to try the real thing, oil on canvas. Every time I pass by this stall I get the same thought. Then I tell myself it is a frivolous wish and I should not waste what little money I have on it." He looked somewhat torn, however. It was something he wanted to try before he died, and the chances of death just kept piling up with each new revelation from the gods and their emissaries. "Sorry for stopping here like this. Do you want to go back to headquarters?"

[Sondra]

Sondra grinned at Leo's choice of hobbies and chuckled against the wind.
"Of course, you like painting ceramics and a good book when not immersed in the righteous hunt. Broke the mold with you, didn't they Leo? My hobbies are fighting for money and the occasional bender."

There were once other pastimes, true ones, but they were too expensive and sedentary. Sitting alone with her thoughts for too long made her wild now.

The Konti nodded agreement at Leo's offer to walk back to headquarters. Winter made the indoors gloomy, but it was safer than wandering amidst crowds.

"As for a second outing, don't know. Never had one."
His serious treatment of jests amused her more than any joke. The man had a bizarre innocence.
"I've been told gifts and meals are customary as things progress."

Her hands made fists in her pockets, reminding her of dozens of gloves in carved cedar boxes.
"I've gotten gifts, mind you, but they were more like offerings than tokens of affection."
Sondra scanned the road before turning a corner, choosing the least populated path.
"But that's neither here nor there." She mixed lies with grit until she almost believed them.
"They wear and spend the same regardless of intent."