13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Crucified)
[personal profile] 13th_crusader
[]Psalm 43:5

Why art thou cast down, O my soul? And why art thou disquieted within me? Hope in God: for I shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.

[☨]The slow knell of the church's bell tolls--gentle chimes art what waken the corrupt soul at the end of a lens' gaze. Sea-misted eyes blearily stare up at the frosted glass of a stained glass window, white breath passing blue-tinted lips, painted with day-old blood that trickles thickly drown from his crown of unkempt blond hair. Entangled in the fallen alter's debris, it looks as if he has been trapped there for any number of days after a dance with a devil.

Damn it all, he let idle thought pass as the chill of the church's draft shudders his frail body pinned under a heavy cross. How could I think to let myself go in such a place. Knitting his slender brows as cold defiance sparks in those envious green eyes he attempts to move, but finds his body impoverished with stagnation. How... could I go in such a place? Prostrate, he curses himself, and outcries within. Lord, don't let me go in such a depraved place! Such was retribution for being the church recluse, rebuking and refusing the hands of his would-be brothers.

Damn it all, he coughs as a snow-flurry spin down from the break in the intricate glass and lands on his wincing sunken cheek. Sighing he supposes he had expected this at least.. He had somewhat made peace with his enemies, only for them to assail him in the end, just as he had foreseen. The true price of peace, bah. The time was nigh, he knew, and balked, to make peace with his God all over again, still dejecting that this would be his resting place. So shutting his eyes, Maxwell breathes as the wood depresses on his wounded chest and ushers a quiet and hymn. A versed alto choir, dusted by lyrical italian of a wayward cherub.

Be still, my soul.. the Lord is on thy side...
..Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain..
....Leave to thy God to order and provide....
...In every change He faithful will remain..
..Be still, my soul.. thy best, thy heavenly, Friend...
....Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end..

....Be still... my soul, though dearest friends depart..
..And all is darkened in the vale of tears...
...Then shalt thou better know His love.. His heart..
....Who comes to soothe thy sorrows and thy fears...
..Be still, my soul.. thy Jesus can repay....
.....From His own fullness all.. He.. takes.. away. . .

[☨]The archbishop's voice fading from the receiver, the feed times out.[☨]

((ooc: Backdated to the Night of the 29th. The frigid man is still stubbornly alive, much to the world's dismay. A day and a half after his scuffle with Youma!Pip, still in progress. I had to take an unexpected/unannounced hiatus the past couple of days. :3 ))


Date: 2010-02-01 01:37 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sancta-sedes.livejournal.com
A-A-Arch Bishop, are y-you okay...?


Date: 2010-02-01 01:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[There's a long... exasperated breath.. but hardly even a whisper to retort. Of all the people to ask him such a thing.]

....Sì, il Papa.
Edited Date: 2010-02-01 01:44 am (UTC)


Date: 2010-02-01 01:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sancta-sedes.livejournal.com
You s-sound.... D-do you need help?


Date: 2010-02-01 01:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Another pause, pride as crushed as he was beneath that weighty cross.]

. . . . ., il Papa.


Date: 2010-02-01 02:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sancta-sedes.livejournal.com
I-I-I'll find s-someone to help you! Sh-should I ask S-Sister? F-Father Nightroad?

Wh-where are you r-r-right now?


Date: 2010-02-01 02:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
Pace. Essere in pace.

[For the love of God, be at peace, you're making it worse! Wincing he can hear hurried footsteps echoing down the aisle-ways.]

Worry not.. yourself, Your Hol~i~nessss.. someone.. comes this way.

[Someone bloody competent he prays.]


Date: 2010-02-01 02:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sancta-sedes.livejournal.com
I'll p-pray for you. P-please be okay.


Date: 2010-02-01 02:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
. . .

[Pray. For him?]

Grazie.. mille... il Papa.

[Such an odd revelation, that.]


Date: 2010-02-01 02:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sancta-sedes.livejournal.com
[Of course for him.]

C-conserve your s-strength. G-God will see you th-through.


Date: 2010-02-01 01:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13sugars.livejournal.com
[Death, if it was to happen here and now, would not arrive to him in that lonesome setting.

Abel didn't even bother to reply. Though the emotional drain from the attack on Eald'narche still dragged at him, the thought of having this man die... Of having anyone else die...

The bang of the door would be his announcement of arrival, the sound of heavy boots against the floor filling the church with those solid echos, moving as quickly as he could.]


[His voice was low, soothing even as he tried to assess the damage without moving that cross too much. What if it was the only thing keeping him alive? Moving closer so that he wouldn't have to speak any louder, he tried to clean some of the blood on his forehead. One hand braced against the cross, lifting it up enough for the man to breathe.]

Can you move at all?

[First things first... Before he went pulling or pushing anything.


Date: 2010-02-01 01:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[There was a stifled breath from him as the burdened weight lessened on his abused ribcage. Oh yes.. something was broken in there. Maxwell stared at the would-be priest through foggy unsure eyes. Exhaust had crippled him, the cold had frozen him, the fight to keep awake after he had been unconscious for a day and a half.. two.. three? What day was it, did it matter anymore? Dazed, he ghosted a reply rather nonchalantly.]

Oh... oh I tried... that..

[The whole motion thing didn't seem to work out too well for him at that moment. His mouth flushed a frost-bitten shade of azure, it was sure his lips were the last thing granted that ability... so much to the world's disdain that his pernicious mouth would remain mobile.]
Edited Date: 2010-02-01 02:01 am (UTC)


Date: 2010-02-01 02:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13sugars.livejournal.com
[He had that much now figured out. How much was it broken? How long had he actually been here? He had to force himself to be calm, gently pushing the cross up the rest of the way. One hand was enough to do the job, the heavy wood light to him.]

Your fingers... your toes. Can you move them?

[Even a small wiggle would be enough to tell him the mans back hadn't taken heavy trauma. His ability to speak was enough to convince him that the man hadn't sustained extreme damage to his head. The cold was probably doing wonders, actually, keeping the injured man from bleeding out.]


Date: 2010-02-01 02:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[The cold was also what was giving him the early signs of hypothermia. The sudden recirculation of blood with the cross off his chest had the frigid tremors settling in. And just to answer Abel's question his fingertips and feet twitched in accordance.]

Così e così...

[With the debris out of the way, the true damage was laid bare as his marred body. His left flank was torn with clear claw marks, blood pooled on the floor, long clotted, his throat bruised from attempted strangulation, and a blow to the skull where the blood had made a lovely modern painting on the canvas of his face earlier. Cold gnashed lips twitched with a faded simper at the priest.]

I do hope... I am.. not.. incon..ven..iencing you.. Reve..rendo.
Edited Date: 2010-02-01 02:41 am (UTC)


Date: 2010-02-01 02:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13sugars.livejournal.com
[That was enough for him. He shoved the cross off fully now, letting it clatter to the floor. The next thing he did was yank off that thick, heavy coat, draping it over the mans frozen, injured body. Blood stains weren't a problem to him.

No. You never are, I promise.

[He gave him a reassuring smile, before slipping his arms under him, trying to carefully lift the man from the destroyed alter without causing any more damage]


Date: 2010-02-01 03:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com

[A sharp cry bit out from him as he was lifted, the broken ribs moving in his chest and scraping together as he laid against Abel without so much effort to even attempt to protest. He very well couldn't even if he wanted to. His body only quavering almost violently in the confines of the coat, he buried his face in the blackness of the cloth, wishing unconsciousness would take him again, to spare him this embarrassment.

Everytime. Everytime he had been close to certain peril in this cesspit, this man, this supposed abomination, had come for him... What a disgrace. To have to be whisked up this way.. like some delicate damsel. Maxwell mewled softly, trying ever so desperately not to even think that deeply on it.]

They.. tried to kill me.. you know.. jus..t.. like I knew they would.. if that.. woman ever left..
Edited Date: 2010-02-01 03:14 am (UTC)


Date: 2010-02-01 03:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13sugars.livejournal.com
[He winced sympathetically at the sound, holding him as delicately as possible.]


[At least the coat would be warm from body heat. Oh yes, Abel was warm. Perfectly alive, right down to the obvious feeling of a gentle pulse in his arm that held the mans back.

The best he could do for Enrico was to just be quick about it... But he dared not move any faster than a brisk walk, not wanting to jostle any broken bones.]

They who? What happened?

[He had to talk. Anything to ward off the threat of Enrico passing out]


Date: 2010-02-01 03:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Sleep. Sleep. It felt so welcoming now that he was bundled and feeling the warmth of that body against his glacial flesh was a thing of assuage. Of heaven. Abomination.. could he really. The more he touched and spoke with this so-called man of the cloth, he began to question what his eyes beheld that day he saw his mouth covered in blood and in the arms of that Devil Nosferatu. Maxwell lulled his head to the side, tucking at Abel's neck, attempting to recall the filthy assailant.]

Hel... It was.. Hellsing... That.. blasted merc.. enary..

[Like Hell did he know the disgusting frog's name, he was unaware they had turned him into a bloody freak as well. Not that he was surprised, everyone became damned the moment they associated with those heathens.]


Date: 2010-02-01 03:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13sugars.livejournal.com
[He couldn't let him sleep, but he dared not shake him to keep him awake. All he could do was talk to him... and pray that the rumble of his voice in his chest wouldn't just lull him to sleep anyway. He smiled faintly as the man tucked his head in at his neck, pleased to see at least he wasn't frightened of him]

Hellsing? ... You think they... Because she left?

[That couldn't be true... Perhaps from Alucard, maybe. But not Seras, nor her friend]

It... might be something else. I'll explain more when we get to the hospital, alright?


Date: 2010-02-01 09:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
H-hnnn.. sh-she.. we.. had a .. a treaty.. peace.. cease-fire.. pe..peacccce.. h-ha..!

[Failing to even laugh at how absurd the whole thing was. To think that he? Archbishop Enrico Maxwell Bureau Director of the Vatican's Special Forces could form an alliance with those barbarous heathen Protestant Hellsings, just to save his own neck.. Oh.

Oh how he imaged his Subordinates to have called him a coward. Anderson would have refused it on the mark, he was sure. Oh... Anderson...

An agonized moan stifled in the director's throat as he tried to curl into that familiar hold. He had held him just like this... not so long ago. Caught in a wave of chilling delusion he pushed through the pinpricks of ice entrapping his body and tried to grasp to the warm priest through the large coat.]

Father... Father. . .



Date: 2010-02-02 02:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13sugars.livejournal.com
It's possible. Even between you two. If I can find it at home, you can surely find it here.

[The hospital wasn't much further, thankfully. He didn't want to carry the injured man much further with that broken rib to deal with. Or ribs, he really didn't know.

All he could do was try and warm him up as he turned towards the hospital, his heart aching as he heard him mumble Andersons name. He didn't correct him. How could he? He just shifted the coat so that the man could do as he wished, not wanting to form a barrier between his body heat and the frozen creature he held anyway.]

Date: 2010-02-01 08:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Oh don't give him that look.]

Date: 2010-02-01 08:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] heinesangel.livejournal.com
[It's rather difficult not to, Archbishop.

The sound of a pair of small feet can be heard running over the floor of her apartment, as if she's intent on rushing out the door to help you this very minute.]

Date: 2010-02-01 09:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Tsh, balderdash.]

Signo..rina Nill.. Please.

[You wouldn't be able to lift this cross off me anyway.]

...it is.. not.. n-nnn... someone.. will come.

[Not sounding very convincing, he wondered, had his device hadn't been knocked would they have found a corpse lying here instead?]
Edited Date: 2010-02-01 09:03 pm (UTC)

Date: 2010-02-01 09:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] heinesangel.livejournal.com
[They stop, and Nill can be heard catching her breath while the fabric along one of her jacket sleeves slips into place. She was so close, but the emphasis he put on that last word had given her pause.

But there was a tremble in her lack of voice, if not a tiny sniffle. She couldn't help but fear for the worse, and wanted to do what she could to stop it.

Only... she trusted him, and that had her tied.]

Date: 2010-02-01 09:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Speaking such words... weren't supposed to work, he thought as he hears the footsteps of someone rushing into the church. He looks at the video, a faint smirk switching his mouth. While a false angel she was, her presence had a way of sparking faith back into stray souls who were on the brink of losing it.]

...You'll.. catch your death... out there..

[You don't want to end up like this, now do you? It's rather uncomfortable.]

Peace.. be with you...child. .

[Uttering his thanks. Oh, that had hurt just a tad. Her concern was.. charming to say the least. Or not at all, not being the sort to admit such a thing.

Glancing away from the screen, the figure of Abel Nightroad half catches in the viewfinder (http://13th-crusader.livejournal.com/5520.html?thread=193936#t193936) before it's knocked off it's pedestal when the debris is moved.]
Edited Date: 2010-02-01 09:34 pm (UTC)

Date: 2010-02-01 09:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] heinesangel.livejournal.com

[His words were a small comfort to her, as she remained in place, but still hard-pressed for keeping her own feet sitting firmly on the ground like she was being asked to. Maybe even beseeched to.

She was unsure, and a note of uncertainty hit her lack of voice like a child not wishing to go into a scary-looking place with their parent.

That changed once Abel Nightroad came into view, catching her by surprise as she let out a gasp. This only came back again, intensified as the communicator was knocked off its pedestal, leaving her in the dark.]


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Enrico Maxwell

August 2010

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