Emiko Katsuhiro. The Ultimate Priestess.
She was someone that intrigued Celestia, not just because of the nature of her talent, but also due to the supposedly beautiful church that ran back in her home town.
She could only pray that this one could meet her expectations. Because after what had happened, the Gambler hadn't much hope staked on that particular piece of hearsay. Once bitten, twice shy, as the saying goes.
The building that housed pews for the Priestess' congregation back in Hope's Peak was... barely adequate. Disappointing, to be frank. It simply wasn't as impressive as she had hoped for it to be. She wanted to stand beneath the finest European-styled architecture; to bathe in light shining through beautiful stained glass; to immerse herself in a house of God that was worthy of her presence.
For such a task, the one at Hope's Peak was simply, far below par.
As Celestia made her way over to the Priestess' town, she tried to relax as much as she could in her first-class seat on the train. She was seated alone at a table meant for four, resulting in a somber undertone of loneliness that persisted throughout her journey. It was incessant, keeping up the haunt despite any and all countermeasures she employed.
The first leg of her ride was spent watching the countryside roll past, but as with anything, the passage of time eventually painted over it with a gray brushstroke of staleness.
Next, Celestia sought salvation in the novel she had brought. Having ordered a pot of tea, she flipped through the pages to continue where she left off. But not soon after what was barely half a chapter, an extremely unappealing sound permeated through the carriage she was in. Her compatriot that was seated (alone, much like her) in the table to her right had dozed off, snoring like a pig in heat.
Unable to stand another minute of that auditory torture, and with no attendants in sight, she had to make her own way across to where the man stood in order to wake him up. What's more, when she approached him, there was a visible trail of drool from the corner of his lips onto the collar of his stained shirt.
Off-putting. Disgusting.
And it looked like he wouldn't wake up through just a soft nudge either. She stood too close to comfort (because within arm's reach was already plenty) and with a hand over her chest, probed the side of his cheek with the corner of her book. But that didn't seem to do much at all, achieving only the act of transferring germs from his oily skin onto her once-unsoiled book.
All through this, her tea was growing cold. Any longer and it would become as unappealing as this... swine she was looking at. But she was forced to take another step closer where immediately, revolting sights previously unnoticed begun assaulted her senses. There was his unkept stubble; the flakes of dandruff visible through his receding hairline; the too-tight shirt that strained against his body, and through that, Celestia finally had enough.
Irritated and exasperated, her anger overcame what revulsion she felt, enabling her to position herself closer in order to start snapping her fingers in front of the man's portly face.
...
Long story short, she berated him for being utterly despicable, after which he still had the gall to force her into an argument, one that quickly devolved into a shouting match consisting of rude expletives (which, by her account, most of which were from him).
The train attendants had to come break them up. Furthermore, they sided with
his side of the story! They revoked her pass to first class and forced her into the coach where the commoners sat, just because they wanted to appease the man-child who threatened baselessly to 'take action' against them if they didn't do what he asked!
"Perish the thought!" she protested, but it was for naught. The horrible, despicable brute had won.
Very much upset, she was made to sit with the ordinary masses and forced to bear with their indiscreet gawping. Some of them even started making offhanded comments, as if what she just went through wasn't torture enough! Being ushered through the curtains that once separated her from them was horrible, staring at their expressions as she made her way to the newly assigned seat was despicable, and now to have to listen to their worthless thoughts and nasty comments about what had unfolded?
How much she wished to have had brought along earbuds to drown out that noise.
And so, that was how Celestia's trip to the Priestess' hometown begun, with the pitiful consolation that things could only improve from here on out.
