It was grave yard quiet with the near uncomfortable calm when Penn entered the church. There was a moment when she expected to be shot down or burned alive for stepping over the threshold of the Catholic Church.

Fingers moved through the gold curls almost self consciously as she walked down the aisle and looked around. It was empty so there was hardly any use to call for sanctuary. Oh surely there had to be someone here, someone willing to hear a confession.

Penn almost had to giggle to herself at the mere notion as she shrugged off the leather jacket to drop it unceremoniously into one of the pews as she eased down to her knees.

There exposed in nothing more then the x-cross of gun holster against the black tank to compliment the black pants and boots she wore, Penn gave the haunting visual of a fallen angel come to confess and seek redemption.

Or maybe she just played the part of the one seeking entrance once more to a world and a god that had denied her. In the flickering candlelight her hair was a halo of spun gold against her near ethereal features.

It was hard in such a holy, sacred place for her to mask who she was as the magic seemed to awaken through her. It left a glistening light to paint her skin as her palms pressed to the floor and she felt the cold metal of the gun pressing to the small of her back.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been… never… and a day since my last confession.”

There was no Father to hear her confession but the words spilled from her tongue as soft as the first rain of spring. The alluring and soothing dulcet of her voice was freed as her head rose and she appeared positively angelic as she was unexpectedly answered.

“I know who you are and you are not welcome here.”

A brow arched in surprise to find nothing more then a Crusader standing in the doorway of the church. Well this was surely unexpected.