✞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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[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.]

[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...

...Oh don't go, please.

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