not that different, you and i

GIDEON

pulled out all your stitches

Had his sermon in Torchline been a success? Many would probably say no; after all, he'd had things thrown at him, words of derision among the projectiles and he'd had to make a quick exit using his compass. However, Gideon did not entirely consider it a failure. He had spoken the ideas, let out the truth that so often stayed hidden; if just one person in the crowd had listened, he had successfully done his job.

It had been quite the tumultuous time lately, between that and the spirit's attack on the Temple. He'd manage to wrangle the place back into a level of presentability, but Gideon was still going around and perfecting the details, scrubbing stains and neatening up pews or altars that were scuffed; the God's Temple had to be clean and neat at all times, after all; anything else was a show of disrespect.

He heard someone step onto the stone floor by the door and looked up from where he was stood at the main altar, inspecting the cloth. A young man - someone he felt he recognised, maybe from Torchline, but he couldn't be sure. Immediately Gideon could tell he wasn't Abandoned, so he opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Come in. Our next service starts in a couple of hours, but you're welcome to come for private prayer."

Hubris is a bitch