Warm weather was decidedly not Amelia’s favorite.

Already, the woman wore so many layers and long pieces of clothes.  Dresses and coats down to her ankles and sleeves ending right at her wrist, collars well up her neck.  Even the mildest weather caused her to sweat with all she wore.

But this did not stop her from going about her day with a smile on her face.  It was nearly impossible to frown in the presence of God, outside St. Hilda’s church.

Truly, this was Amelia’s happy place.

Today she was content to sit outside the church on benches nearby (never mind the fact that it was too warm to do anything else).  Long brown hair blew gently in the occasional breeze, a glittering gold necklace the only jewelry Amelia wore flashing in the sun.  Bright blue eyes floated around from person to person as they walked past, finding their way upwards towards the clouds when no one was around.  If moments between company drew long, Amelia's eyes might have fluttered closed, but who could say for certain except God?

That woman was sitting all by herself and smiling like some sort of loon.

From an adjacent street Seoyun stared at her, squinting through a habitual frown. There was no one even talking to that lady, and the chances of something entertaining going on over there seemed terribly low.

And what was she wearing? By god, she was dressed for a funeral! Practically everyone she’d met in this silly little fish town were about the same, covering themselves like they had anything of interest to hide. The men were plain pathetic and the women weren’t much better, and all for the sake of… what did they call it?

Modesty?

Well, Seoyun didn’t like it one bit. With a casual strut, she crossed the street and followed the path to the lonely loon’s bench.

It wasn’t that Seoyun herself didn’t cover up, but she’d be damned if she let anyone stuff her in so many layers and skirts. She felt like a right prostitute as she approached, what with her ankles and wrists and, god forbid, a few inches of skin below her neck showing too, where she’d not bothered buttoning up her shirt.

Come to think of it, she’d not seen many women in trousers like hers, either.

“What’re you smiling about?”

Not the friendliest greeting. Seoyun squinted down at her and then raised her chin, rethinking her approach. She pointed to the building nearby.

“I mean, is that your church? That one there?”

[CW for some period-typical ignorance on the terminology for other races.]

The woman approaching Amelia got the same treatment as any other stranger - a smile and a polite nod, the smallest tilts of head when she realized she was heading towards her - but in addition to that, Amelia couldn't help looking her up and down a few times in... astonishment?  Bewilderment?  Disgust?

No, no, definitely not that lattermost of the three.  There was nothing disgusting about this woman at all!  She was just.  Unique, in her trousers and open shirt and the way she walked more like a sailor than any woman she'd ever seen before.

Heat, or maybe the layers and layers of clothes must have been getting to Amelia, as she felt her face grow hot.

"Pardon?"  A better question might have been, how are you doing today?  Or even, what isn't there to smile about on such a lovely day?  But Amelia allowed the woman a moment to collect herself rather than expressing this.

"St. Hilda's, you mean?  Yes, it's mine.  Or rather, it's where I attend.  Are you..."  Amelia nearly asked if she was looking for someone.  This woman looked so much like the new priest at St. Hilda's, Father Brennan, but she'd recently learned that saying things like that could be offensive to exotic races.  The last thing Amelia wanted to do was insult this woman, even if she wasn't the most lady-like.

"Are you interested in attending yourself?  Mass was this morning, but I'm sure one of the priests would be happy to see you regardless."

Poor loon looked like she was boiling in all those clothes. The people here were weak-bodied, Seoyun had decided, no matter their claims at sea-worn hardiness. All it took for them to whine about the weather was this warm gust of air that they called summer.

Even she almost felt bad for the woman sitting on the bench though, if only because she seemed so aloof. How did people like her survive?

“St. Hilda’s,” she repeated. Her accent was just thick enough to be heard; well-worn around the edges, as if she could have left it behind her long ago and chose not to.

The pause between the other woman’s words did not go unnoticed.

“Priests? Plural?” How many priests did one church even need? “No. Tell me about them, the priests. What kind of church is this?”

Anything but Catholic. Anything but Catholic.

The woman's foreign accent was not lost on Amelia, but again, she decided she would not call attention to it for fear of offending the woman.  Instead, she blinked up at her, squinting slightly for the sun behind her, before scooting over a bit on the bench.

"Sit with me, I'll tell you about the priests!  There are two at St. Hilda's - its a Catholic church.  There is Father Richards and Father Brennan.  They are both younger men, but very kind from what I have seen!  Though I don't much speak with them besides confession."

And thank goodness for that.  Amelia doesn't know if she'd be able to look either men in the eye after telling them all that she has.

"Goodness, have I introduced myself yet?" she continued in an effort to distract herself from her sins.  "My name is Amelia Adams!  Are you new to Whitby?  I don't believe I've seen you around before.  What is your name?"

Catholic! Goddamn it.

There was an irritated click of her tongue against the back of her teeth as she cast another glance to the church. It was always those prideful Catholics taking everything over. Seoyun looked back down at the woman a few moments later, eyeing the unoccupied space beside her.

She didn’t want to sit, nor did she want to hear a bunch of nonsense about St. Hilda’s priests that was not oh, one of them looks like you or something of that nature.

Begrudgingly, Seoyun took a few steps closer and sat down, hands shoved into her pockets. She leaned forward, legs spread wide at the knees, and watched the comings and goings of the church steps while the woman spoke.

“Adams,” she said distractedly. Seoyun fixed a suspicious look on this Amelia Adams and said, “yes, you could say that. Jin Seoyun.”

No care was given for whether the lady caught her name or not, let alone the pronunciation of it.

“The priests – how young? Younger than you? Are they around right now?”

This woman took up so much space so confidently on the bench, Amelia had to scoot again to make room for her.  She was bothered slightly by this, too, but her smile remained on her face still, even as she pressed her legs further together so they did not touch the other woman's.

"Jin -" she began, and gave up there.  Already, the woman... Jin, was moving on, again about the priests.

"They're - oh, as old as me, perhaps older?  Father Richards is just inside, but I'm not sure where Father Brennan is.  There's a rumor that he's gone to London to speak with the Bishop, but I wouldn't know for certain."

This Jin Say-yoon was quite interested in these priests.  Amelia hoped it was because she wanted to convert or join the church, but a small part of her thought there might have been some other reason.

"Would you like to meet Father Richards?  I can take you to him, if you'd like."

Trying to be kind, Amelia placed her hand on the other woman's knee, and was reminded that she was wearing trousers like a man.  As if burned, her hand was retracted, and nearly settled again on the other's shoulder.  But then Amelia caught sight of pale, scandalous collar bones and had to avert her eyes.

In the end, she used her hand to fan herself, cursing the heat.

Mention of London stole Seoyun’s attention again, but it would have been more helpful to her if she had known what the fuck a Bishop was. Her confusion with the stated rumor showed clearly on her face, but it had the misfortune of looking more along the lines of a perturbed grimace.

So it was… Father Brennan that was presumably in London. Old as her, maybe older. Dark eyes looked Amelia up and down, blatant in their inspection.

That seemed to track well enough. Amelia appeared to be around her age, give or take a few years, if Seoyun had to guess. It was a little hard to tell with all those layers.

The hand that reached out to her was met with an equally as bewildered stare.

It was probably a good thing that this woman thought better of touching her. She was keenly aware of a cool metal blade hidden in her sleeve, pressed up against her skin.

“Richards?” Seoyun refocused. She looked back to the church. “Maybe. Tell me about Brennan, is he–”

Korean, she started to say, and then remembered the odd way she’d said Jin.

“I’m just here looking for my brother,” she revised. “He’s supposed to be at some sort of church. I didn’t know there were so many types of goddamn–”

Oh. Maybe not the best to say that in front of an obvious church-goer. Seoyun’s lip curled distastefully.

“There’s so many churches,” she settled on.

Jin's gaze was heavy all across Amelia and she hated it.  As hot as it was, she was glad for all the layers of her clothes, though it felt like they did nothing under the other's keen gaze.

But then she continued speaking, and now Amelia felt bad.  Because if she had just said from the beginning that she looked so much like Father Brennan, it would have been much more useful to Jin than beating around the bush, politeness be darned!

"There are many churches," she agreed, "but your brother, is he - he's your blood brother, right?  I'm not sure how likely it is to be Father Brennan, but there's a chance.  He looks..."  Amelia motioned to her face and hair.  "He looks very much like you!  With the - eyes.  The color, I mean!  Father Brennan's eyes are very dark."

There was not much besides that Amelia could say was similar about them.  Father Brennan was tall, and while Jin was not short, she wasn't massive like the priest was.  Where the Father was gentle and quiet and kind, Jin was harsh and loud and took up space.
Where Father Brennan's presence brought a calmness to Amelia, Jin's set a fire beneath her skin.

"Oh, it's a shame he's not in Whitby, otherwise I'd take him to you right away!  How did you two get separated?  I can't imagine being away from my brothers.  Has it been long since you last saw him?"

Seoyun stared blankly back at Amelia as she motioned to her.

The – what? Brennan’s eyes looked like hers because – they were dark, of course.

A similarly dark brow raised with no lack of judgment at the woman’s vague assessment, but she said nothing. It was the information she was after, and this little loon seemed to be trying very hard to give it to her.

“Mmm,” she hummed in response.

Why was Brennan speaking to some Bishop in London? She had to believe it was some other church thing, which meant it wasn’t interesting enough to ask about – no matter how much this Amelia probably would have loved to tell her.

What kind of a name was Brennan anyway? Maljin had a perfectly good name already.

“Thirty years,” Seoyun answered flatly, finally glancing away from the woman’s face. Nosy, but at least she was helpful.

“Why do you keep calling him ‘Father?’ He has kids?”