13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Hand to God)
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Bedridden)
[]Ecclesiastes 11:9

You, O Lord, reign forever; your throne endures from generation to generation. Why do you always forget us? Why do you forsake us so long? Restore us to yourself, O Lord, that we may return; renew our days as of old. Unless you have utterly rejected us and are angry with us beyond measure.

Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. )
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Orphanage)
[]Ecclesiastes 11:9

Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.

Brethren, be not children in understanding: howbeit in malice be ye children, but in understanding be men. )
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Bloodguilt)
[]Psalm 51:14

Deliver me from my bloodguiltiness, O God, thou God of my salvation: and my tongue shall sing aloud of thy righteousness.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. )

[☨]A quavered sigh passed imperturbable lips as he rested his chin over the angel's crown, where bangs of blond became oddly damp from trickles of penitent saltwater.[☨]


...He'll come through.
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Not Aghast)
[]Habakkuk 1:2-4

Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves.
For if any be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass:
For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was.

[☨]Going about his way in restoring the sanctum, the Archbishop is bending at the knees deeply, his gloved fingertips carefully sorting through the remnants of stained glass on the floor to remove what could be reused. The filaments of iridescent glass shimmered like tiny prisms in the candlelight as he fished through them.. Anderson had done such a fine job in making them, to see them go to waste would have been tragic.

Howevere he did not recall this particular piece of 'glass' in the shape of a dipyramid... In it he saw his own reflection. Yet not that of the regal Prince of the Church, but that of a Raucous little Runt scowling back at him.

Che.. Wha.. what devilry is this!?

Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them )
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - No Laments)
[]Habakkuk 1:2-4

O Lord, how long shall I cry, and Thou wilt not hear! Even cry out unto Thee of violence, and Thou wilt not save!
Why dost Thou shew me iniquity, and cause me to behold injustice? Why dost Thou tolerate wrong? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds.
Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice doth not prevail: for the wicked doth compass about the righteous; therefore wrong judgment proceedeth.

[☨]Upon his knees, nearly prostrate, the archbishop sits upon the remains of the foyer. As the Holy Spirit would have it, the flames were dowsed and those inside were whisked to safety by [livejournal.com profile] 3_hat_day [livejournal.com profile] emperor_cowboy [livejournal.com profile] teutons [livejournal.com profile] totally_feliks [livejournal.com profile] toris_lietuvos [livejournal.com profile] morphinbirdboy.

The threshold was charred, the back window was shattered, and the back pews, carpet, and tapestries were blackened, yet there was nothing that could not be saved and refurbished. Escaping by the skin of their necks was the only thing he was grateful for--Whilst the other 90% of himself was seething at the lack of judgment.

In Maxwell's quavering hand was fisted the 30 silver coins he had used to pay the Pope's ransom. He snarled as the livid hatred boiled up in him and tossed the shimmering coinage into the middle of the temple.

There is no justice, Lord! None! I do not believe a single solitary soul can even fathom it in this misbegotten place!

[LOCKED to Lilith; 85%]

Madam Lilith... Might I request an audience with you?
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Meddling)
[]Gospel: Matthew 16:13-19 )[]

[☨]It's late evening by the time he realizes the date. He had been keeping time merely by the dimming of light and darkness through the blinds over his eyes. And long before that, the phases of the strange moons had helped him keep track. A traditionalist man, he sat at the pews with father Anderson's large bible in his lap, playing his fingertips blindly over the pages and the rivets in the edge of the pages that marked each chapter.

Even partially sightless, he still knew exactly which scripture laid in front of him by ingrained memory and touch alone. Tonight was another important eve (of the dozens in strict Catholicism), forgotten by most, if not all Godless foes around him. So he kept it to himself, his faith and belief, and everything else of consiquence to himself as he read in an undertone, splaying his touch across the soft pages as if the deep-set ink were braille.

Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and keep watch with me. ...And he went a little further, and fell prostrate in prayer, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will... but as Thou wilt.

[☨]He paused when his acute ears heard the footsteps of his subordinate.[☨]

Father.. do you know which solemnity it is today?
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - No Pains)
[]Ezekiel 7:22

My face will I turn also from them, and they will desecrate my treasured place; robbers will enter it and desecrate it.

[☨]The commlink was smacked amidst the thin threads of sheets, to meet the bandaged face of the archbishop, twisted in a disquieted but blind sneer. After a few days of falling in and out of a concussion force-fed to him through a two-ton bible to the face, he stirred in agitation as those last conscious moments replayed in his waking mind and shot him straight out of bed in a flurry of ribbons and tattered blond hair.[☨]

Defilers! M.. MURDERERS! I'll have you hanged on a halter of--


[☨]Clawing at his face he realizes he can't see a damn thing, and his horizontal position which was upon something much harder last he recalled, was now a tiny mattress with a familiar horrible squeak.[☨]

Kssh.. You blasted mother-hen, unless my brain-matter was leaking from my ears, I told you not to bring me back here!

[☨]Whether anyone was in the hospital bedroom to hear him was anyone's guess, yet the pounding in his head gave him little reason to care as he mewled melodramatically and fell back over the commlink's lense.[☨]
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - IDIOTS!!!)
...Oh no.




13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Making it Worse!)
[]Ecclesiasticus 32:10

Before the thunder goeth lightning; and before a shamefaced man shall go favour.

[☨]After dredging his subordinate out of a hole, the Archbishop was bitterly reminded of the wretched devilry device he had kicked into the baptismal pool. The video blinks on from the bottom of the pool, a wobbly vision of the man is seen poking a long wooden rod at it to try and push it up the side of the pool's basin.

What drudgery... he was perfectly content never dealing with the horrid thing ever again, yet he was aware of it's use in keeping tabs on those few he gave a damn about. After all, what if another of his men were sentenced to this cloaca of calumny and consternation? One of those very men could be seen hovering over his shoulder as Maxwell garbled something to him while bent down to reach for the device...

Sparks jolt the second his spindly fingertips touch the wet infernal contraption to punish him for his neglect.


((ooc: Follow-up to this. Still in progress))
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Awash)
[]Leviticus 14:9

But it shall be on the seventh day, that he shall shave all his hair off his head and his beard and his eyebrows, even all his hair he shall shave off: and he shall wash his clothes, also he shall wash his flesh in water, and he shall be clean.

[☨]God if it were only that easy for one as stubborn as him. Maxwell hadn't allowed a razor to run over his head since before he could use the word 'No!'. Yet here he hadn't so much as put a knife to tapered ends of his unruly mane that was by now nearly brushing the floor as he walked. As he sits at the end of the stony baptismal pool, rather begrudgingly using it as a wash for the umpteenth time, he was once again bemoaning over the high maintenance his crown needed.[☨]

Ksh, dear Lord what I would not give for a bottle of Sciˡampo olio d'oliva.

[☨]Muttering to himself as he scrubs the wayward tresses till the video, shot from the bottom of the pool, times out. He'd be there for a while.[☨]

((ooc: I'll tag you back Grell-mun when I get off work in a few hours <3 ))
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - No Payment)
[]Revelation 16:14

For they are the spirits of devils, working miracles, which go forth unto the kings of the earth and of the whole world, to gather them to the battle of that great day of God Almighty.

[☨]With all the howls of tormented souls that infernal commlink was screeching like roving demons. Clearly possessed by some vile spirit, Maxwell took to thrashing it to the ground and stamping his Italian-booted heel into the LCD.[☨]

In the Name of Jesus Christ! My Lord, strengthened by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin Mary! Mother of our Savior! Of Blessed Michael the Archangel! Of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul and all the Saints! Powerful in the Holy authority of my ministry, I confidently undertake to repulse the attacks and deceits of the devil!!

[☨]He crushes the squealing device over and over, grinding the steeling end hard, whilst he spat his venomous prayer at it, that worked to no avail.[☨]

Behold the Cross of the Lord, flee bands of enemies!


He has conquered, the Lion of the tribe of Juda, the offspring of David!

[☨]And again.[☨]

May Thy mercy, Lord, descend upon us, and none upon the wicked!

[☨]AND AGAIN.[☨]

This! My great hope in Thee!!

[☨]Before he finally batted it up with the tip of his boot with all the grace of a Italian Calciatore player and kicked it violently across the church and straight into the baptismal pool.[☨]

13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Not Fallen)
[]Luke 22:14-22 )[]

[☨]The moaning of the church doorways overshadow the exasperated sigh of the Archbishop as he re-enters that Holy Sanctum. Had he died since his last entry? To the irritation of the Fates and whomever else, no. He had been but confined to the sterile fortress of the Hospital again, which might as well have become a second home to him at this point.

Only he had been carried there kicking and screaming against his will by an unruly giant who's strength beat out Maxwell's unruly mouth. Setting his commlink down on a pew as he reaches the end of the aisle-ways, begrudgingly glancing around at the mess of glass littering the floor, Maxwell dabs his sweat-beaded forehead, muttering to himself in half a daze after his escape.

What day is it...?

[☨]Surrounded by drab white and dilapidating walls oft had him losing his sense of time... Merciful God, he had better not have missed Easter.[☨]


[☨]Pulled from his insidious thoughts of how he was going to berate the Paladin till he was deaf for making a mess of his precious church, abandoning him in the Hospital, and canoodling with some harlot, the doorway's mewl had him turning, a leer vexing across his misty gaze at the beast in the threshold.[☨]

Now where in God's Name have you been?

13th_crusader: (Maxwell - No Sins)
[]1 John 2:28 & Philippians 2:12-17 )[]

[☨]Another Sunday's barren repast, another Mass without a fold, the Archbishop is captured by the prying lens upon the dingy dark floor. Not to be tempted by the Pharisees' returning of provisions, the sight of him is macerated, fasting in the daylight as the Lord bid him, taking what repast of brittle Capelli d'angelo in the eve. And not to speak ill of it, though his stomach balked at him, he rather filled the echoing church with his Roman lilt, perhaps, if anything, to deafen the silence that oft reminded him that he was alone.[☨]

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
the darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless )

((ooc: This takes place right before This Log, so any replies will be delayed till we get far enough into the log. Commentlog is open for after the event to you Nill-mun if you like! Sorry for the delays! T~T ))
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Saint)
[]Mark 1:1-3

The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God;
As it is written in the prophets, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee.
The voice of one crying in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.

[☨]Setting the device aside in the dim light, the Archbishop is knelt at the fallen alter, the debris cleared somewhat, but the large cross itself was far too heavy for him to lift back into place. Removing a graying white glove with his teeth, he reaches out to the cold cinders dusting around the burnt edges of the cross and utters solemnly to himself, and to a merciful God he begged to hear him on the beginning of this preparation before the Holy Week.[☨]

Remember... O' man, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

[☨]And for the unclean they shall take of the ashes of the burning of the purification from sin )[☨]

13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Not Flustered)
[]Job 10:1 & Job 7:11

My soul is weary, I loathe my very life . . .
Therefore I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

[☨]The door to the church slams shut with a whirl of snow-flurries and a gonging echo that resounds across the auditorium and back again. Leaning against the doorframe is Maxwell, panting from over-exertion from running through the snow, a look of pure fluster splashing rosette across his pale face that twitches from the cold, sweat frozen on his slender brow. After escaping the mess of the hospital and tending to that girl, mortified bemusement runs through his very corrupt soul.[☨]

What was I thinking going after her?!

[☨]Digging his hands into his tightly wound hair, he blathers rather inaudibly in unrefined Italian, for one that acted so regal.[☨]

Io sono malato? Io sono fuori come un balcone!? Io sono... impazzita?! Che cazzo c'è di sbagliato in mi?!

[☨]Adrenaline puttering out, the chill finally takes hold of him as he sinks to the floor and clutches the thin sleeves of his white under-shirt, for for the first time since the temperatures dropped the Archbishop was without his heavy cassock. Shivering violently he stares out into the mess of debris left behind in this Holy Temple, feeling a pang in his chest that quaked into the twitching and wincing of his eye.[☨]

Dio mio, non capisco questo dolore.


[☨]Hardly capturing anything from his pocket's eye-view, the device times out.[☨]

13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Savior)
[]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.[☨]
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Crucified)
[]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.

[☨]My soul, my soul! I am pained at my very heart; my heart maketh a pounding in me; I cannot hold my peace, because thou hast heard, O my soul, the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war. )[☨]

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 ))
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - No Love)
[]Numbers 14:9

Only rebel not ye against the Lord, neither fear ye the people of the land; for they are bread for us and will be devoured: their defense, their protection is gone, departed from them, and the Lord is with us: fear them not.

[☨]The end is nigh. The holy man is sure of it this time as the camera captures his pale quavering hands clutching a tattered parchment. It's the contract he had signed with Babylon the Great, her signature and his own clear at the latter end of the scroll.

O' Mary, Mother of God. Not even this binding covenant with the Devil's Master would save him now. It was one grave thing to take the Paladin... Now whom would stand in that monster's way!?

An end is come, the end is come: it watcheth for thee; behold, it is come!

Maxwell takes a dithered breath, much like the ones she would oft accuse him of being, to rise from the pew seated upon, before uttering most bitterly.

Godspeed then. If be that His will.

[☨]He knew it was not. Were it the will of his Lord, Maxwell wouldn't be here right now.[☨]
13th_crusader: (Maxwell - Unbelievable)
[]Matthew 15:13

But he answered and said, Every plant, which my heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be rooted up.

[☨]The Archbishop is seated at his makeshift desk, idling flicking the leaves of the tiny seedling that grows in a dainty pot. Turning his half-lidded gaze to the camera, he smiles in that deceptively congenial way of his, taking a moment to straighten a fur stole about his shoulders, savoring the warmth.[☨]

I want to thank all those who attended Mass last evening. It was truly an invigorating and uplifting experience, even with those ravenous plants infesting His temple. I'm sure those Pharisees watching us think they have a raving sense of humor.

Well I'm not laughing. Don't they ever do anything that's practical and dare I say, useful?

Speaking of which, to whomever left me this potted plant... while, generous the offer, I'm unsure what to do with it. My hands are tied just taking care of myself and this church.

And to Abel.. nnn.. Thank you for the stole, it's just what one needs in this baltic weather.

[☨]With that he touches a gloved fingertip to the screen and clicks it off.[☨]


13th_crusader: (Default)
Enrico Maxwell

August 2010

12345 67


RSS Atom

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Oct. 17th, 2017 06:33 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios