Prayer I (Accidental Video)
[The video suddenly turned on. All that can be seen is darkness.]
AHHHHH!
[There is the cry of what sounds like a boy in distress. Shortly followed there is a crash, and the sense of movement. There is the sound of rustling and falling. The communicator is now on its side, yet still doesn't show much. If one were to look very closely they would ( Read more... )
AHHHHH!
[There is the cry of what sounds like a boy in distress. Shortly followed there is a crash, and the sense of movement. There is the sound of rustling and falling. The communicator is now on its side, yet still doesn't show much. If one were to look very closely they would ( Read more... )
Non solo lì, afferrarlo e vai! [Don't just stand there, grab him and go!]
[All that he had built himself up to be as a leader of the most fearsome organization under the church's reign instilled solidly in his wretched soul. As if he had been brought back to that moment when he had proved to his superiors that his men and women would be the silent cornerstone of His Holy Temple, starting with his own prowess in the field of divine execution.]
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritūs Sancti.. Discedere ad Inferos!
[In a flash of blessed steel, the Archbishop cast his qualms to the Lord he had forsaken in Midian, and slashed a silver bayonet from his cassock, cleaving it into one of the legs of the shrilling beast.]
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He already knew where he was going; the man had mentioned the Church. He hated to leave, but he also was more worried for the boy's safety than that of a man who could defend himself. He dashed off into the darkness, a shift shadow himself.]
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Perire e morire, diavolo! Perire e morire! Morire! Morire! Die! DIE! DIE! DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE!!!
[There was only twitching insectial sinew and organs left betwixt the shrill screams he had not realized were his own till the fog of slaughter cleared from his vision.
The archbishop staggered outside, grasping his blood-slicked brow, his right eye twitching wide as a twisted giggle bubbled from his pernicious lips.]
Hnhnhnnn.... Heheeeheheheheee!
[He couldn't fathom what he had just done, the thrill had been more marvelous a task than any other. Why had he forsaken such a fantastic feat he had left only to his subordinates?! Maxwell laughed. Laughed loud and long till his sides and his throat were soar.
Turn with a royal flip of his carlet-soaked hair over his shoulder, he held the blessed sword between his sanity-thieved eyes, and hallowed his benediction. A new conviction to add to his personal creed.]
AAAAMEEEEN!!!
[And from there, the serpent of the Vatican's Eden, slithered back to his Lord's house.]
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He carried the boy all the way to the Church and slipped inside with ease. Once in he found an ideal place to set down the boy--on one of the still intact pews--and placed him gently on it. He checked again for any obvious wounds before settling back on his heels to contemplate for a moment.
Should he go back or not? He'd rather stay with the boy, frankly. He didn't want the other to wake up all alone after all. Or worse, let someone else find him if there were others in this deserted holy place.
He set himself to watching over the boy, briefly considering forcefully waking him but forgoing it for the moment.]
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Ah, F-F-Father Abel said....
[He looked over to Giovanni, then smiled weakly. In a way, he was reminded of Vaclav, though he couldn't say what it was.]
Th-thank you.
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You're welcome, piccolo.
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Aahh a thanks indeed.
[Giving the sign of the cross, with a flip of a long handkerchief from his breast-pocket. He smoothed the cloth over the silver blade and rested it on a pew, then matted the rest of the clean spots of the thick fabric over his face, before turning his vivid jade eyes towards the man and the tremulous young boy.]
You made it well, did you not?
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Sì, we did. Without so much as an incident. [He nodded politely and kept his thoughts to himself.]
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I'm eased to hear that, signore.
[He uttered with a hushed and darkly cherubic tone, before finally gliding over. The candlelight of the looming church offered a warm orange glow to everything about them. And for the first time he got a rather... startling look upon the boy.
More over.. upon his Holy Pontifical Vestments.]
Child... if I might ask.. Why is it you wear the sacred vestments of His Holiness?
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Because... th-th-their mine...? I, I was crowned.... f-f-f-five yeas a-a-ago....
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He didn't know, but it also wasn't his place to question he thought. At least for the moment.]
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The Archbishop's face lost all color, his eyes glazing over, before he felt a dagger in his gut and something hitch in his throat.. the taste of metallic upon his tongue. Slapping a hand over his lips to fix them shut he muttered quickly.]
Ig-ignosce mihi, quaeso... [Please forgive me.]
[And muttered even more quickly.]
Mi perdoni, mi scusi...! [Pardon me, excuse me!]
[And dashed like a bat out of Hell down the aisle-way towards the alter and round a corner to the backroom where he barely made it to cough up quarter pint after quarter pint of ruptured ulcer blood.]
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Still, he could not help but think of his Uncle, and the uprising he had recently left. Was that his fault as well? Was that because he was in a position he shouldn't have?]
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He turned his attention back to the boy, intending to excuse himself and see what was wrong with the other, perhaps demand a few answers to some questions, but upon seeing the expression on the boy's face decided otherwise. Instead he moved closer and leaned forward a bit, peering at the young one at an angle.]
Are you well, piccolo? Is something the matter?
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