[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.]
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]13th_crusaderFebruary 10 2010, 01:22:57 UTC
[Bureaucratically Iscariot and Hellsing were allies to the destruction of otherworldly and underworldly beasts that threatened the lives of pure and innocent souls.
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?
[The cough poses him to want to cover his mouth out of habit. Everyone and their damned ailments. He had the right mind to put on a surgical mask at this point.]
[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.
[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.]
[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.]
"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."
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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.]
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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.]
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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.]
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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.]
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[pause while Mello coughs up some blood - at least he tries to be quiet about it]
You're a priest, right?
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Mn, an Archbishop.. respectively.
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Even better. How are you with doing Last Rites?
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[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.
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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.]
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Oh...
...Oh don't go, please.
[Outstretched fingers strained past the mattress, and dropped, dangling over the edge out of pure exhaustion.]
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