Now is the only thing that's real
Temperance sat next to the hospital bed. They held her hand, connection broken through latex gloves, and spoke softly together, expressions masked by cloth. Charity was really sick this time. A different kind of sick. She had been prone to illness since she was a child, but over the past few years it had only gotten more severe and frequent. Even their father was concerned this time.
They continued to sit there long into the night, until finally Charity fell asleep. Eventually Temperance did too, leaning over the bedside, hands still intertwined. They awoke in a confused daze to their mother's hand on their back. They could hear their father's choking sobs. They lifted their head to see. She was gone.
With the right attitude
You will succeed blue
Several years had passed, and Temperance was now studying medicine. Today was a presentation by the local medical examiner. They had a rough idea of what one did from working with their father, but as the presentation continued, Temperance realized just how detailed it was. Medicine, mystery, giving peace to families, and aiding the law. The only con really seemed to be that the patient was already dead. That seemed alright to them. They could handle Death.
Wasted views
That's all they see blue
Hot blood guilt optic nerve
On one hand, Temperance should have planned this better. On the other hand, they hardly expected their father to stumble across the rapier they had hidden in the cellar. It was only because Walton had offered to help them practice in the mornings... and, well, it would have been out of the way to travel back to their flat every morning while visiting their parents. However, maybe that would have been preferable to the current situation. Temperance sat at the kitchen table still, not stiff, that would appear nervous, with a blank expression on their face. Behind them, their mother leaned against the countertop with folded arms and a somber expression. Before them, their pacifist father paced and railed. The rapier sat on the table: sheathed, peace tied, and wrapped in a white cloth.
"How dare you bring this... this thing into my home?" His voice was starting to get shaky now.
"I know you may have trouble seeing it from this perspective, but this thing is nothing more than a tool, father." A cool, even tone was the best angle to take here. "Plenty of tools can be used for good or ill, for example the scalpel–"
"The scalpel?" Care-well cut them off. "You compare a fine instrument – a sewing needle – to... to a battering ram!" He shook his head and continued to prowl around the small room, like a lion ready to pounce.
"Actually, rapiers are one of the finer weapons when it comes to finesse and uses outside of wanton violence. Fencing is a sport in and of itself. Many of the techniques focus more on defense than–"
"It is still a weapon at the end of the day," their father butted in once again, finger pointing at their child. Temperance sighed. Their mother unfolded her arms.
"Let them finish, Hayes," she said pointedly.
"It's alright, mother. I stated my piece." To a brick wall...
Their father waited a moment before continuing. "Violence breeds violence. It doesn't matter if you're in the right or the wrong, it will cause more harm, eventually. I kept saying this back during the war. Every retaliatory attack Orithyll took only garnered a stronger retaliation from the Verdenians. That's why we accepted Filanore's offer. Strength without imposition. 'A wall stands firm against the storm, but does not weary itself trying to defeat the wind.'"
"Well, we see how the 'without imposition' part turned out," Temperance said, spite tinting the edges of their voice. Their control was slipping.
His eyes seemed to spark with renewed rage. "And we see how this little club of yours has turned out. Philosophers, you call them, yes. The types that can justify any action if you allow them enough words. You could have worked with me – with us – and instead you go and become a medical examiner! Sure, someone has to do it, but it didn't have to be my own son!"
"Care-well Hayes, that's enough!" Temperance's mother stepped between the two.
"It's alright, continue," Temperance said, returning to their monotone voice.
Temperance's father grumbled, paced the room, and pinched the ridge of his nose under his glass. "It doesn't matter. I can't continue now anyways without looking like an asshole," he said, biting off his words. Temperance raised their eyebrows slightly and gave a little shrug.
Silence gave out a long sigh. "This is my house as well. We all know how you feel about these things, but you also know that your views are the extreme end." She picked up the sword and turned to Temperance. "Are you only using this for sport and justifiable defense?"
"Of course," Temperance said, raising their arms defensively. It was true, though their idea of justifiable was likely much different than their parent's by now.
"Alright. See, Hayes? Now we'll deal with this so you don't have to. It will be out of the house, don't worry. Temperance, follow me." She walked out of the room. Temperance followed, glancing up at their father before exiting. He lowered his gaze when their eyes met.
Outside, their mother led them back towards the cellar again. They placed the sword behind some loose slats along the wall. "You really should have known better, Temperance," their mother chided.
Temperance sighed. "I know..."
"Your father has always been a man of extremes, but the war... well, I suppose it changed us all, yes?"
"Mhmm."
Silence looked long and hard at her child. "I'll tell you a secret, but you can't ever tell your father this. You know the painting hanging in our room? I've kept a loaded firearm behind it for years without him ever knowing. Thank the gods I've never needed it."
This made Temperance do a double take. "Really? Why?"
"When you and your sister were little, and the war was beginning... I was so afraid something would happen to you. Eventually I decided if the choice came I'd rather keep the two of you safe than keep some moral high ground." She placed a hand on their shoulder. "Some things are more important than being right."
Temperance didn't know what to do with this information. "What do you think he'd do if he found out?"
"Oh, probably all but kill me," she laughed. "Don't worry, I wouldn't go down without a fight. It's you I'm more worried about."
"No need," they said, leading the way back inside.
Resent that discontent
Sidestep
Define the state of things
“Temperance,” Ordovis said, laying the body on a stone slab. “You’re up.”
"Well, Arthos certainly didn't make things easy for me, did he?" Temperance said while adjusting their mask. Now this was different. The ruler, no god, that had inflicted so much suffering on their table? Incredible. And this time it was not only about solving mysteries, but creating new ones as well. Giving peace to millions, not just a few. They were aiding justice, not just the law.
They flipped the recorder on and got to work.
You know soft-spoken changes nothing
A view so cruel
They were packing for the relocation to Elphael. Why they were assigned to library duty was beyond them. Sure, they liked books, but this stuffy, dusty room made their skin crawl. Between organizing and disinfecting everything before boxing it up, Temperance had only gotten through one book case in the past few hours. They sighed and decided to take a break in the perfect spot: a lonely table surrounded by Cipher Club artifacts in the back of the library.
They gingerly snatched the skull off the shelf as they sat down, placing it on the table. They lay their head down and looked up at it.
"It must be easy, being a skull. No one has expectations about skulls. Other than that they generally belong to the deceased." They poked at its forehead, lifting it up just enough to give the illusion that the jaw was opening and closing in speech. "Sorry, I suppose I'm strangely... jealous? People don't have much to go on with a skull. No horns, tail, wide shoulders... and they certainly wouldn't ask a skull to move halfway across the world. But I guess you don't get to escape that one. Hmm, it seems wrong to store you away in a box for the move, though. I'll ask Lior, she'll know where to put you."