13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Savior)
[personal profile] 13th_crusader
[]Psalm 147:12-18

Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem; praise thy God, O Zion.
For He hath strengthened the bars of thy gates; He hath blessed thy children within thee.
He maketh peace in thy borders, and filleth thee with the finest of the wheat.
He sendeth forth His commandment upon earth: His Word runneth very swiftly.
He giveth snow like wool: He scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes.
He casteth forth His ice like morsels: who can stand before His freezing cold?
And yet He sendeth out His Word, and melteth them: He causeth His wind to blow, and the waters flow.
Praise Ye the Lord!

[☨]Regal Roman cadence murmurs across the receiving device without the Archbishop paying heed, as per usual, to the wretched toy. Curled in a ball, and blanketed so tight in his hospital bed, he looks as if his spindly body would cave in. Maxwell clutches to his jingling cross and continues his methodical benediction, a hitch in his words that reminds him another certain stammering pontiff.[☨]

My God, my R-rock, in Him will I t-trust... My sh-shield, and the horn of my Sa..salvation... He lifteth me up-p, and is-s my Refuge.. m-my Saviour, Thou wilt deliver me fr-from iniqu-quity.

[☨]Misty seas in his gelid eyes, he glances to the frosted window, looking to catch sight of some idiot out there braving the storm and making Live Snowmen out of themselves.[☨]

I sh-should hope those babes have stopped their wailing n-now. Being forced to stay in this hospice against their wi-wills will save their bl-blasted necks.. instead of just giving rise to their innate bo-boredom.

Ve, were it not for my Liturgical Duties I'd k-keep this refuge for as l-long as pos-s-sible.

[☨]Despite the cold and his intrinsic hunger they were all facing, he bloody well tolerated it here. Far better than anything he'd be facing out there. Oh they'd never bemoan again he was sure. The screen times-out as he returns to his utterances and pulls the thin cloth over his head, sealing the opening of his cocoon as if he'd emerge a butterfly once spring came around.[☨]

[Comment log]

Date: 2010-02-09 11:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] harkonnenorbust.livejournal.com
[That was more than enough for Seras to make her decision. She was already leaving her own room, she might as well take Maxwell with her. Gathering the few things she has, she marches out of her own hospital room and in to his.]

Father Maxwell, please come with me to Flandre's room. She has something that will keep you warm.

[Her voice is firm and will clearly take no for an answer.]

[Comment log]

Date: 2010-02-10 12:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Nearly leaping out of his scaly skin, what pops out of that cocoon is likened more to a trembling green garden snake than a pristine butterfly.]

What? Who is that? Wait, no n-nevermind it, I'm plenty warm ri-right here!

[And plenty wrinkling his pointed snout as the chill coaxes a mouse-like sneeze out of him.]

Kssh.. we're all a little b-bit nippy!

[You may get Pip with that police-talk Seras, but he's a goddamn stubborn Archbishop with a superiority complex the likes to dwarf Mount Everest.]
Edited Date: 2010-02-10 12:01 am (UTC)

[Comment log]

Date: 2010-02-10 12:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] harkonnenorbust.livejournal.com
[Seras sighs and steps further into the room.]

Please, Father. We're all better off if we stick together. More bodies in one place produce more heat... right?

[To some he may have been her enemy but Seras was far from the kind to wish anyone to freeze to death. She had taken it upon herself to look after the Archbishop, whether he liked it or not.]

[Comment log]

Date: 2010-02-10 01:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Bureaucratically Iscariot and Hellsing were allies to the destruction of otherworldly and underworldly beasts that threatened the lives of pure and innocent souls.

Maxwell's divisions however were absolute, rather than picky and filtering like Hellsing. There were no good vampires in the mind's eye of an Iscariot. All would see the pyre, whether they burned them themselves, or God willed it at the End of Days.

Be that as it were, he still recoiled against the headboard of the bed as she neared. Polite as she was, she was still a rotting vampire.]

...Correct, but that sh-shouldn't be a concern for a Draculina, hm?

I was not aware you could become cold.

[Being dead and all.]

[Comment log]

Date: 2010-02-10 01:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] harkonnenorbust.livejournal.com
[The draculina frowned.]

Just because I can't feel it doesn't mean I don't care for those that can.

If you won't listen to me-

Hold on.

[An idea struck her and without another word she ran out of the room. If he wouldn't listen to her, she'd make him move. It took a few minutes to convince the other man to listen to her as he complained about being socked, but Pip was always a sucker when it came to Seras. Upon returning, she brought the mercenary with her]

Father, you're coming with us whether you like it or not. Captain?

[Comment log]

Date: 2010-02-10 01:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mintroyalcowboy.livejournal.com
[Pip may have been a sucker when it came to listening to Seras, but that did not mean he had to be happy about it. He looked like this was the last thing he wanted to do.]

You 'eard ze lady. We're getting you to move. [He's already moving to get the man, but as soon as he was close enough to possibly say something without Seras hearing--] You cause any problems, or try and 'it me, I won't 'esitate to knock you out. Got zhat?

[With that threat out of the way, have fun Maxwell because Pip is hoisting you up into a fireman lift.]
Edited Date: 2010-02-10 01:42 am (UTC)

[Comment log]

Date: 2010-02-10 02:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[The Archbishop leered poison-tiped daggers of that insolent frog who dared threaten him!]

Why you filthy fro--A-aaaah!

[Only to find himself hauled up like a sack of potatoes. Maxwell was but six feet of bone and tissue. Yet what he lacked in mass, he made up with hot air, as he flailed without so much as threatening to knock the Frenchy off balance.]

Assolutamente no! Vietato toccare mi, stronzo! Questo è d'assalto! [Absolutely not! Do not touch me, asshole! This is assault!]

[Maxwell slumped completely out of breath.. not enough curses on his vulgar tongue could get him down from there. His body just would not have it.]
Edited Date: 2010-02-10 02:49 am (UTC)

[Comment log]

Date: 2010-02-10 02:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] harkonnenorbust.livejournal.com
[To be honest, Seras was rather proud of the situation. She gathered up any blankets that had fallen away for the Archbishop.]

Please don't struggle any more, Father. You'll only make matters worse. You don't have to even talk to anyone, I'm just asking you come with us for your own safety.

[She really did need to look after him, didn't she?],/small>

[Comment log]

Date: 2010-02-10 02:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mintroyalcowboy.livejournal.com
[Just to be an ass, Pip's going to let the Archbishop jostle a bit. Serves the bastard right. Though he only lets that go for a few moments before steadying the man on his shoulders for good--Seras would have his head if he didn't make it an easy ride.]

In fact, don't worry about talking at all if you're going to blabber on like you are now...No one wants to 'ear zhat.

[Comment log]

Date: 2010-02-11 12:45 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Balling his fist as he dangles down Pip's back, he wished, oh how he wished, he had a silver hammer in his hand to BASH BASH BASH the insolence out of this blaspheming heretic! Only able to seethe he cursed the very ground they walked on under his breath.]

Oh whatever!

[Muttering to himself.]

Ti odio, odio, odio, a tutti voi! [I hate, hate, hate, you all!]


Date: 2010-02-10 12:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] shut-up-near.livejournal.com

[pause while Mello coughs up some blood - at least he tries to be quiet about it]

You're a priest, right?


Date: 2010-02-10 12:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[The cough poses him to want to cover his mouth out of habit. Everyone and their damned ailments. He had the right mind to put on a surgical mask at this point.]

Mn, an Archbishop.. respectively.


Date: 2010-02-10 12:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] shut-up-near.livejournal.com
[Well, it's not so much an ailment as it is internal bleeding from being crushed by half a building.]

Even better. How are you with doing Last Rites?


Date: 2010-02-10 12:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
I've yet.. to give any here, God willing.

[They were usually alive by the time he even realized any of these poor souls even kicked the bucket. He was unaware this lad was just about to become one of them.]

Yet I should say at home.. I'm quite versed to them.
Edited Date: 2010-02-10 02:55 am (UTC)


Date: 2010-02-10 04:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] shut-up-near.livejournal.com
I know a guy who's gonna be in need of something like that pretty quick here.


Date: 2010-02-10 09:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[So that was it... It's been a while, he ponders, taking a placating breath.]

Speak your name, child.. and I shall be swift.

[voice - locked]

Date: 2010-02-10 06:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] shut-up-near.livejournal.com
[And out come the security filters. No sense making it easy for anyone who might be snooping.]


[voice/video - locked]

Date: 2010-02-10 11:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Worry not, such a privy name will likely not be uttered by him again to any other.]

Archbishop Enrico Maxwell, presiding.

[Clicking the video feature on, he stands as his duty as his Lord bids him to allow this stray lamb to find the fold that gathers beyond this wicked place. He would almost envy Mello if he managed to remain there. Solemnly touching his crucifix dangling at his pectoral, he silkenly recites the Rites for this One to find that shadowed place to which they'd all be going.]

O’ Holy Hosts above, I call upon Thee as a servant of Jesus Christ, to sanctify our actions this day in preparation for the fulfillment of the Will of God.

[He was used to seeing a body of one of his Iscariot’s lying in a similar bed where he lied the device. Shutting his eyes, he allowed himself to imagine this so-thought brother, he did not see, was there in it’s stead.]

We ask that You receive this child, our brother Mello, into Your arms and into Your house, that he might pass in safety from this crisis. As Thou hast told us with infinite compassion:

So let it be done...

[Making the Sign of the Cross, the Archbishop opens his eyes just slightly, inwardly, secretly, even from himself, hoping this one might find his way. For if there was hope for this stranger, there was hope for himself.]

If.. you are still with me, I will hear your confession, if need be.
Edited Date: 2010-02-11 12:03 am (UTC)

[voice - locked]

Date: 2010-02-18 02:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] shut-up-near.livejournal.com
... I'm still here. [His voice is quiet, between labored breaths. Mello can't help thinking about how surreal this situation is - he'd halfway expected to keep living through sheer willpower alone, especially after the incident with the explosion at his hideout. He had to sacrifice so much then - his resources, his connections, half of his face - just to escape the NPA, but he'd done it, against the odds. He made it happen. And now ...

The other half of his expectation was that he would've died a little more suddenly, a little more elegantly - a heart attack, a bullet to the skull, a miscalculation on his too-fast motorcycle. No warning. Not languishing in agony after being crushed by damaged walls of his apartment. You stayed too long in one place. You got sloppy, you got lazy. You failed.

Offscreen, Mello doesn't move to kneel - the pain is almost paralyzing at this point, he can't move much at all. The best he can manage is transferring the communicator to the hand of his broken left arm, propped up by his knees, as he makes the sign of the cross with his remaining mobile hand.]

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been - [how long? too long] - it's been a really long time since my last confession. Couple years, I think. [He takes another labored breath.] I guess I'm not even really sure where to begin, Your Grace.
Edited Date: 2010-02-18 02:35 am (UTC)

Date: 2010-02-10 01:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] heinesangel.livejournal.com
[Every so often, a lone pair of footsteps could be heard approaching the Archbishop's room. Nill had been keeping an eye on him; even more so when her trust in Father Nightroad became such an issue after seeing his Crusnik form. But she always tried to handle things delicately, and in a shy, quiet manner.

That's why, if he had ever fallen asleep and the room was vacant of hospital staff or visitors, something would appear to change. Less dust on a table than the other day, a glass of fresh water, a spare blanket... Simple, minor details.

Maybe that's why, when she heard the chill in his voice, her light footsteps could be heard dashing away to fetch an extra blanket for him.]

Date: 2010-02-10 09:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Even through his pain and delirium through the cold, he had noticed. Like an angel of the Lord come to him in the night to soothe his ailments and watch over him with eyes pure. The feeling wasn't so far off from the truth, as he would see, turning, bleary misty eyes catching but the wisp of wings disappearing out the threshold.]


...Oh don't go, please.

[Outstretched fingers strained past the mattress, and dropped, dangling over the edge out of pure exhaustion.]


Date: 2010-02-10 04:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] stfualtair.livejournal.com
"Make use of medical treatment, for Allah has not made a disease without appointing a remedy for it, with the exception of one disease, namely old age."


Date: 2010-02-10 09:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 13th-crusader.livejournal.com
[Oh good Lord. Girding his tongue, not about to get into a pissant bible-fight, he just kills the connection.]


13th_crusader: (Default)
Enrico Maxwell

August 2010

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