(no subject)
Things weren't going well. Duo had taken a detour from the path because there had been vampires. Fucking. Vampires. And not the fun Maladicta-kind, either, but like evil, soulless, killer vampires, and Duo didn't have his extra ammo on him. Annagovia was running alongside him, silent and keenly watching the forest as it whipped past. Duo's plan was to get home and get him and Moist into the Gundam, and then find someplace safe. Duo couldn't actually think of someplace safer than Deathscythe, but he knew he was going to need to go out and look for people and maybe step on some monsters, and he wasn't about to bring Moist along.
He jumped a fallen palm, noting vaguely that it looked like a damn tornado had been through the place, and kept running full tilt until he stopped so fast in a clearing that he almost went tumbling head over heels. He stopped and stared at Maxwell Church burning.
It was exactly like he remembered it. It even looked just as big, and he was pretty sure that things were supposed to look bigger when you were little. But no, it looked the same size. If anything, it was bigger because of the flames.
The stained glass windows, which were small and not many, were broken. The mortar had been incinerated and so the stones had collapsed, not to mention the chunks of it blown away, flattened or decimated by the explosions that had rocked it, when the Feds had found the place.
And through the flickering orange wall where the door and lintel used to be, Duo saw a dark shape on the ground. He thought for a moment very clearly of Sister Helen, and the fact that she was blond, and that he hadn't known that until the moment she died when those few strands had escaped her wimple, and without thinking his body surged forward and he ran for the fire.
He jumped a fallen palm, noting vaguely that it looked like a damn tornado had been through the place, and kept running full tilt until he stopped so fast in a clearing that he almost went tumbling head over heels. He stopped and stared at Maxwell Church burning.
It was exactly like he remembered it. It even looked just as big, and he was pretty sure that things were supposed to look bigger when you were little. But no, it looked the same size. If anything, it was bigger because of the flames.
The stained glass windows, which were small and not many, were broken. The mortar had been incinerated and so the stones had collapsed, not to mention the chunks of it blown away, flattened or decimated by the explosions that had rocked it, when the Feds had found the place.
And through the flickering orange wall where the door and lintel used to be, Duo saw a dark shape on the ground. He thought for a moment very clearly of Sister Helen, and the fact that she was blond, and that he hadn't known that until the moment she died when those few strands had escaped her wimple, and without thinking his body surged forward and he ran for the fire.