Private Conversations

[dominioned]

The confessional before you is ornate and well maintained, ebony colored wood embellished with the visage of two angels. A jet black curtain separates the confessional from the rest of the Church, offering a surprising degree of privacy to any eavesdroppers nearby. Unlike the rest of Krakow, the inside is dimly lit by a small light bulb securely attached to the ceiling which emits a faint red light. While the atmosphere isn't exactly cozy, it is private.

A smooth voice calls out to you once you've sat down, familiar enough to identify the speaker despite the partition between you.

"Welcome welcome. I take it something is on your mind?"

We're in a museum now, Harry.

Comments

1/2

[bawcock]

[ !? That was way too easy. He's not sure what's about to happen, but the way the lights flicker and then darken have him completely on edge. When the bulb comes back on, he's long since been on his feet and is glancing frantically around the confessional.

Did something really just happen...? Despite the taunt, he's not entirely clear if something did change. ]

Don't you talk about my sister that way! [ Or at all. He sits back down and grips his knee tight. ] She was just a kid, it wasn't her fault—