[002] action & phone; open.
A) ACTION & OPEN:
[there's a lanky and slightly ruffled priest -- though you'd be hard pressed to denote him as a man of faith, considering he lost his cassock and certainly doesn't look the part, otherwise -- ambling the streets of Mayfield. he appears to be consulting a shoddily drawn map and scratching his head, every now and then... mumbling to himself under his breath.] N-no, this doesn't look like it, either, it's-- did I draw this wrong? What happened to my utterly infallible sense of direction--?! H... horrible; this is horrible. I'm going to die a lonely, terrible death of starvation and not a single soul will mourn my loss. Caterina won't even know where to send the consolatory flowers for my grave! Th-this is too cruel... I don't think I can handle any more of this place...
[...maybe you could help a bro out. or mock him. either or.]
B) PHONE & OPEN:
[heaving a haggard sigh, a melodramatic voice begins whining over the phone lines somewhere around dinner hour.]
What did I ever do to deserve this--? Honestly, I don't think I neglected my duties so badly as to earn the likes of this-- Hell. Has God truly forsaken me? Me, his loyal servant, an utterly dedicated and whole-heartedly devoted, sworn-in and soul-deep man of the cloth?! This is unjust-- it's--
TORTURE! How am I supposed to function in these deplorable conditions?! I've been sleeping on the couch God knows how long and there's a crick in my back and my wife throws my slippers at my head when I ask for a simple massage and I think I'm suffering some sort of-- withdrawal from the comforts of home and I have adorable daughters I don't remember fathering as I'm rather sure I'd recall that bit and--
--Honestly, who would've thought a man could miss his former employer's banshee cry in the form of her overprotective robot dragging you out of bed at five a.m. to the sound of her voice asking you for your travel expenses report? How is a man supposed to live like this?! Lord, I beg your forgiveness for whatever greivous sin landed me in your ill graces, but I swear on my very soul I'll repent if you only send me back to Rome where there's Sister Kate's blissful tea awaiting me, well-sugared and warm and--
[he cuts off with a choked sob. time to go emo some more. feel free to interrupt his woe... no really. please, dear god.]
[ooc: A is open around town for anyone at all! B is open over the phone lines. please specify which you're replying to in your tag! <3]
[there's a lanky and slightly ruffled priest -- though you'd be hard pressed to denote him as a man of faith, considering he lost his cassock and certainly doesn't look the part, otherwise -- ambling the streets of Mayfield. he appears to be consulting a shoddily drawn map and scratching his head, every now and then... mumbling to himself under his breath.] N-no, this doesn't look like it, either, it's-- did I draw this wrong? What happened to my utterly infallible sense of direction--?! H... horrible; this is horrible. I'm going to die a lonely, terrible death of starvation and not a single soul will mourn my loss. Caterina won't even know where to send the consolatory flowers for my grave! Th-this is too cruel... I don't think I can handle any more of this place...
[...maybe you could help a bro out. or mock him. either or.]
B) PHONE & OPEN:
[heaving a haggard sigh, a melodramatic voice begins whining over the phone lines somewhere around dinner hour.]
What did I ever do to deserve this--? Honestly, I don't think I neglected my duties so badly as to earn the likes of this-- Hell. Has God truly forsaken me? Me, his loyal servant, an utterly dedicated and whole-heartedly devoted, sworn-in and soul-deep man of the cloth?! This is unjust-- it's--
TORTURE! How am I supposed to function in these deplorable conditions?! I've been sleeping on the couch God knows how long and there's a crick in my back and my wife throws my slippers at my head when I ask for a simple massage and I think I'm suffering some sort of-- withdrawal from the comforts of home and I have adorable daughters I don't remember fathering as I'm rather sure I'd recall that bit and--
--Honestly, who would've thought a man could miss his former employer's banshee cry in the form of her overprotective robot dragging you out of bed at five a.m. to the sound of her voice asking you for your travel expenses report? How is a man supposed to live like this?! Lord, I beg your forgiveness for whatever greivous sin landed me in your ill graces, but I swear on my very soul I'll repent if you only send me back to Rome where there's Sister Kate's blissful tea awaiting me, well-sugared and warm and--
[he cuts off with a choked sob. time to go emo some more. feel free to interrupt his woe... no really. please, dear god.]
[ooc: A is open around town for anyone at all! B is open over the phone lines. please specify which you're replying to in your tag! <3]