John nods a polite greeting, though Matilda agrees with Sonia and snarks quietly in John's ear until he tells her to leave it. A little huffily, she finds a perch in the shadow of the Advent wreath and sits there grumpily.

"Good morning, Trevor," John says, greeting him with a smile and a handshake, just as he would with any parishoner.

"Something good, or something bad?" John says, pleasantly. And ready for either.

"For what else did Our Lord shed His blood if not the forgiveness of sins?" John says.

John is deep in prayer when she walks in, and Matilda notices Dancy first.

"Hey. Hey. Someone's here."

He looks up and sees her enter, and rises to greet her. "Good morning."

"I'm an all-hours sort of person," he says. Which has always been at least somewhat true, and is now especially so since he's been changed. He doesn't sleep at all at night, and in the day rarely takes more than a catnap, even though he can't go outside. (Frankly, he's been enjoying the freedom of movement enabled by the lack of true sunlight on the Barge.)

Matilda flutters over to get a better look at the turtle, while maintaining a very safe distance.

John, meanwhile, looks thoughtful. "It bothered me enormously at first," he admits. "And I'm still a long way from being as easy with it as some people I've met here. Besides, it's, um—it's my afterlife too, actually." He looks—is—a little embarrassed by this.

"I'm still not completely convinced it's not," John admits with a wry look. "I mean, not that the Church's teachings on Purgatory give you any reason to expect something like this, but—I know what you mean."