(no subject)
“Silver-eyed saint, resplendent in atrocities.” That’s what his business card had read, anyway. Long before he was the priest. Back when he wore those wings. Ugh. Those wings, Etienne thought. He snarled to no-one, scaring a small child who had been grinning up at him. He had no time, today. No time for the innocent bag of meat, perfumed hair and candied mouth. He grimaced, refusing to think of it any further- it would do him no good. "Besides," he crooned to himself, grinning, "I have urgent business to attend to..." His laugh began, wild, alarming a shaggy-headed musician walking past him in the crowded town square. His metal-soled shoes clicked on the pavement as he walked, grinning and humming to himself all the way along. Such a big job to do...he chuckled, breaking off his tune.
Musing to himself all the while, he approached the small church, a cute little Greek revival building, stark white. There were stains of wear all over it, rust beginning to spot at the gutters. "This is the place," he said, drawing the metal object from under his robes; stroking it tenderly. He brought it to his lips amnd laid a soft kiss on its cold surface. Running his slight hand through his hair, pulling the hood from it, he slid the metal into his robes and stalked up to the door, his face etched in an almost grim joviality as a stern wrist beat a harsh welcome on the white, wooden door, the wood giving slightly at the pressure, the eaves shaking the smell of rain on his head. Moments passed as a small man with twisting black hair slowly pulled back the door, one half of his face left out to survey his company. "Can...ca I help you?" Etienne smirked, making obvious his distaste at not being adressed more formally. "Why yes, yes you can...Father Angelus is it?" Father Angelus recoiled, senility and time dulling his memory. "Who-who..." "There will be none of that, my dear old man, now if you please-" Grasping his shoulders, the silver Saint pushed Father Angelus throught the doorway, sending him sprawling backward across a particularly sturdy ironwood table. "Father Angelus! It's been some time."