Re: Sunday Service: Mercy/Shiloh
Adaptability was Shiloh Fairchild's constant bedfellow. His entire life had been comprised of adapting to make himself just as impossible as he could be. Any good therapist would inform him that it was a coping mechanism, and he wasn't so slow as to not realize that. It'd been a choice, not something he'd fallen himself butt-first into in order to feel better. Adapting was his choice, and that adapting had led him here, to this town and to this place of worship, to this spot with this man who seemed an outsider. Outsiders, they were always so much more interesting to Shiloh. The people that toed the line pretty tended to be boring as green snakes in grass, just as harmless, and he was accustomed to a life surrounded by the most brokenly beautiful siblings a boy could ever hope for.
"Did you ever ask why she picked Mercedes?" Shiloh had no clue why he was named Shiloh. He'd been told, for as a long as he could recall, that he had no one to ask. Once he'd realized that for a falsehood, he was too busy rushing out the door to go asking questions. He regretted that. He didn't like admitting to regrets, but had he stopped and talked to Kirsten that day, then all of his subsequent hardships could've been avoided. Shiloh liked himself some hardships, but not ones that landed him mostly dead. "Either way, I bet people don't forget meeting you often." The name, he meant, but Shiloh was good at saying things that left a person wondering if he meant them how they were spoken.
The cherry tip of Mercy's cigarette devoured paper, and Shiloh tucked his hands comfortably in the pocket of his trousers. Elbows relaxed, shoulders relaxed, and even the heat didn't make him jitter about. "From what I've heard tell, wolf in sheep's clothing might be something literal in Repose." His smile was a teasing one, every bit the joker and of course what he was saying had no ring of truth. He was just bantering friendly with the congregation, and he didn't know this town well enough yet to know anything about lingering wolf packs. "Honestly, people spread rumors about nearly everything, but there's no malice to it." Again, that smile, beneficent, as if he always thought the best of people.
Shiloh didn't truly think the best of anyone. He understood the grimy, filthy parts of human nature. He spoke that language, and the cross warming against his chest didn't disabuse him of his certainties. Sinning was the human way, and only through sinning could there be salvation.
Mercy grinned, perhaps breaking the reverie of passion cresting. Shiloh smiled that angel's smile and met Mercy's grin with a show of teeth.