✞18 Days since my Last Confession✞
Feb. 9th, 2010 03:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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.[☨]
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.[☨]
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[Comment log]
Date: 2010-02-09 11:51 pm (UTC)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)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.]
[Comment log]
Date: 2010-02-10 12:59 am (UTC)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)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)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)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.]
[Comment log]
Date: 2010-02-10 02:40 am (UTC)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.]
[Comment log]
Date: 2010-02-10 02:50 am (UTC)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)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)Oh whatever!
[Muttering to himself.]
Ti odio, odio, odio, a tutti voi! [I hate, hate, hate, you all!]
[voice]
Date: 2010-02-10 12:04 am (UTC)[pause while Mello coughs up some blood - at least he tries to be quiet about it]
You're a priest, right?
[voice]
Date: 2010-02-10 12:22 am (UTC)Mn, an Archbishop.. respectively.
[voice]
Date: 2010-02-10 12:43 am (UTC)Even better. How are you with doing Last Rites?
[voice]
Date: 2010-02-10 12:56 am (UTC)[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.
[voice]
Date: 2010-02-10 04:41 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2010-02-10 09:05 am (UTC)Speak your name, child.. and I shall be swift.
[voice - locked]
Date: 2010-02-10 06:49 pm (UTC)Mello.
[voice/video - locked]
Date: 2010-02-10 11:32 pm (UTC)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.
[voice - locked]
Date: 2010-02-18 02:31 am (UTC)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.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-10 01:05 am (UTC)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.]
no subject
Date: 2010-02-10 09:33 am (UTC)Oh...
...Oh don't go, please.
[Outstretched fingers strained past the mattress, and dropped, dangling over the edge out of pure exhaustion.]
[voice]
Date: 2010-02-10 04:36 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2010-02-10 09:00 am (UTC)