Bastien
Bastien, occasionally in his life, would have a moment of clarity where he would realise he was being an absolute cock. He had one such moment as he returned from his visit to the shrine, glasses in his hand and disappointment in his heart. To add to his melancholy, it appeared he had been robbed, as both his candle and the necklace around his neck had mysteriously gone missing.
As he sat feeling sorry for himself, he had to eventually admit that he had jumped into this too soon. His church was good, something he wanted, but the deity chosen? She was much too fickle for this to work. Internally, he kicked himself. You never dedicated anything to anyone unless they were dead; otherwise they had the potential to fuck it up for you.
So, his church needed a facelift. But it was embarrassing to go to his followers with this without the place already set up, so he could present it as a magic trick almost, a transformation.
No, to help him with this endeavour, he had to go to someone who hated the church anyway, so would be honest about the changes needed. He had to go to Phoebe.
Walking to a teenager's clinic for advice did grate on him, but it was what had to be done. He tried to tell himself it was an act of great humility, noble and inspiring, but...he couldn't help feeling stupid and irritated at himself. The knock at Phoebe's door (because he could not dare to touch the handle, not after last time) was distinctly slow and frustrated.
As he sat feeling sorry for himself, he had to eventually admit that he had jumped into this too soon. His church was good, something he wanted, but the deity chosen? She was much too fickle for this to work. Internally, he kicked himself. You never dedicated anything to anyone unless they were dead; otherwise they had the potential to fuck it up for you.
So, his church needed a facelift. But it was embarrassing to go to his followers with this without the place already set up, so he could present it as a magic trick almost, a transformation.
No, to help him with this endeavour, he had to go to someone who hated the church anyway, so would be honest about the changes needed. He had to go to Phoebe.
Walking to a teenager's clinic for advice did grate on him, but it was what had to be done. He tried to tell himself it was an act of great humility, noble and inspiring, but...he couldn't help feeling stupid and irritated at himself. The knock at Phoebe's door (because he could not dare to touch the handle, not after last time) was distinctly slow and frustrated.
