[The child-like hopefulness in his glassy expression was almost heart-wrenching to see drain away into utter aging disappointment. Scattered about him were Iscariot barrier parchments (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/SeraphimSephiroth/Maxwell%20Journal/canon.gif), and whatever poor books and other things he found useless that caught the brunt of his earlier rampage.]

You?!

[Maxwell about scattered in ten-different directions as once, only succeeding in sending his own ass to the floor, and wincing down the urge he had to cough viciously again.]

I'm.. I'm alive.

[He scrambled to pull himself back together in front of this would-be heathen, priest, whatever he was, he didn't care right now.]