✞18 Days since my Last Confession✞

[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.[☨]

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[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.]

[voice]

[shut-up-near.livejournal.com]

Amen.

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

You're a priest, right?

[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.]

[voice]

[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."