[†]Ezekiel 7:22
My face will I turn also from them, and they will desecrate my treasured place; robbers will enter it and desecrate it.[†]
[☨]The commlink was smacked amidst the thin threads of sheets, to meet the bandaged face of the archbishop, twisted in a disquieted but blind sneer. After a few days of falling in and out of a concussion
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Maybe that sound should be familiar, Max. He's left the museum to visit the hospital. And look who he found back here?
The small, colorfully dressed man stood at the door, listening to the archbishop rant to the walls]
Why don't you make this your home, you end up here so often. [Nah, he knew Maxwell wouldn't be able to understand him.]
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To any other, the Medicine Seller's voice would be soothing like a cool wind on a sweltering summer day.
To the holy man, it was like 3-inch nails on a chalk-board, drawing a horrible shudder through his miserable body.]
Y..you!
I thought that Hellbeast made you a center piece in his vile garden!?
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Moving into the room, he removed the medicine box, rolling his eyes lightly as Enrico put his bladed tongue to use. He glanced to the other mans face. No point in using the communicator. There was a sigh, and he tried to put to use what little english he'd picked up]
Quiet.
[He knew that word all too well. Pulling out a small vial, he headed to the other mans side. Looks like someone did a number on the westerners nose there.]
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[The first English word out of the demon's mouth actually stunned him to a moment of silence. Pin-pricks of hair then rose as he could feel the creature draw near, his instincts to lash out flaring as he backed up against the head-board like a cobra corralled into a corner.
The only sound between them was the bloodied wheezing struggling through Enrico's slender nostrils, a clear sign the cartilage had been smashed and needed to be popped back into place.
Of all the times for his subordinate to abandon him... Teeth clenching behind pernicious thin lips, every tendon wound tight as a spring in a hand-gun... Maxwell swore to make the kind priest pay for leaving him to the dogs.]
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It was two murderous thieves that did this!
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Perhaps I should pay you a visit? I am in the lobby; it is not out of my way.
[the sound of bare feet on tile suggest she's coming, regardless.]
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A-
aha...
Surely signorina that is not... I am just on my way to check-out.
[And he's grappling with the ribbons around his eyes, knowing whoever tied them wanted to keep him from ripping them off.]
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It seems a shame you've been under the weather both times. [those footsteps continue. the Holy Madonna is persistent.]
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Even here I cannot seem to see a thing, let alone you Matrona.
[And he gives up on the bandages and figures he's been here enough times that he knows the layout of the hospital like reading braille.]
Yet, oh how I will manage!
[And he's stumbling out of that bed and feeling for the walls.. No that's the window.. which means the door is over there!]
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[She could almost hear you down the hall, Arhbishop--in stereo (compliments of the commlink.)]
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[He's not sorry.]
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Nill tried to avoid the commotion from before. The wailing and... other strange noises coming from the patient room. Not to mention the ominous chatter from the other doctors (at least as much as she could understand with her patchy foreign language skills).
It did nothing to set her mind at ease, and the poor girl ended up turning her head to look over at the room several times as she passed by in the middle of her chores. -- She didn't even know what happened to the Archbishop, or had a way to talk to him as per the norm. Not with those bandages.
So. Here she was, standing before the door to that room, wondering if visiting would do more harm than help or not.]
...
[She swallowed hard, and hardly knowing what to expect, Nill gently rapped her hand against the door. 'Excuse me...'
It creaked open on old hinges, and a pair of dress shoes stepped quietly over the floor.]
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The knock had him hoping, praying, Anderson had come back from whatever errand or act of horrible good-will was distracting him from his lame chief.
Sitting up, not being able to see especially in the dimness, he didn't bother to turn his head towards the doorway when he answered, his voice noticeably listless from the prior madness.]
A.. Anderson...?
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So, how's your face?
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OBNOXIOUS
SNOOTY
NATTY
VOICE!]
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YOU CHEAP PROTO-DEMON! You're going to wish Satan never retched you up onto the earth's surface!
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