[ † ] Head down, shoulders hunched, the imposing man retreats into the heavily creased folds of his cassock, shying back into the shadow of St. Peter's when the sharply biting wind threatened to tear the fibres of his skin. The rising, first-quarter moon shone silver in the reflection of his spectacles, darkening skies encasing him in its chill.
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Comments 56
Are you... alright over there?
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O'..Fahter Nighroad..Et's ye. Ah'm feelin' ae bit wabbieh, es all.
[A bit tired.]
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Well, I'll think of something!
[No. You don't get a choice. Abel is coming with food, damn you]
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[Voice a bit scratchy.]
Joos' need tae rest earlieh tonigh'...
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Did you...
Did you. just. sneeze?
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[Sweat beading down his forehead. Shuffles nervously, peering back into the church.]
E-erm..Nae..Ah...
A..
A...
A....
[Body tensing, going stark stiff.]
A-AI~CHOO!
[Sniffs, prickling all over.]
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[Maxwell's eyes are as large as saucers, and before Anderson can even right himself again, the spindly man is at his back, shoving him back towards the doorway.]
Get inside this instant!
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[Chuckling softly like an overgrown child as he's thrust into the sanctuary of the warmer Church, trying not to...]
Aiiiiichooo!
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Hello? Fatherrr Anderson?
*He goes to look around, taking a few sniffs into the air. His ears perked forward at the sound of both the sneeze and coughing fit. He quickly gains a worried expression as he finally catches sight of Anderson.*
You are getting sick too?
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O'..
[He turns quite suddenly at the voice, peering into the semi-darkness for its source.]
Leehko?
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I am herrrre~!
*He calls out again, trying his best to get close enough for the other to see him easily in the dark.*
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However, as his sea green eyes settled on the creature before him, they widened in shock, having never actually seen anyone in the city before who was not fully human-looking.
While his first instincts would have been to hold any super-natural being under suspicion back home, if not to wield his blade against them, here, the situation would have turned grave fast.]
K...k...Kittieh.
[A minor twitch of lips, nervous laughter escaping him.]
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My my, has the regenerator Alexander Anderson fallen ill? I do suppose they've taken away your abilities?
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[He recognized the Briton's crisp intonations..Shinigami. Hellsing's retainer. Wielder of high-velocity, monomolecular wires that could easily ribbon a man to blood-strewn confetti. Yet, how was it that he was here? Had not Midian swallowed everything? Not that he was thrilled by the possibility that their infernal lot would follow him here to this Limbo. Even if The Iscariot Angel Dust was not exactly familiar with the Englishman-as their interactions had been..Minimal at best-the knowledge that a part of Hellsing still survived..Though he supposed the butler was better company than some.]
. . . Nae. Et's naethin'.
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[It's what he asumed at least- but that's no matter, they all come back to life again afterwards.]
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