[Having holed himself up in that room of his like a hermit, innate fear gripping and dragging him away from going near that door, the archbishop curved his ear to the rummaging sounds that echoed throughout the resounding church. From the very moment he had laid eyes upon his subordinate that had returned to him like the very Returning of the Messiah, he had been viced with a terror he could not begin to explain
( ... )
[ His ears burned like white-hot irons stretched over silk that had been pressed and melted against them the instant the Archbishop's voice carried through the extension of space between them, a strangled purl gurgling in the back of his throat. He turned around slowly, suspended in time, as though he might silently wrest and prey on that sound and pin it down, so very afraid that silvery Roman tongue was nothing more than a chimera-a mirage-something surreal his mind had compensated for in the midst of his loneliness, his yearning, and his uncertainty regarding his Brother's well being.]
Y-ye...Ye're oot o' yer room! Scarcelieh saed ae word tae mae since ah bin....Though' ah migh' bae dreamin'...
[A sort of surprised pull of brows elevating upon his stressed brow, a flickering half-smile put into place for a brief interval. The expressed joviality soon dwindled unto the pitfall of melancholia and regret he'd allowed himself to be stewed into every time he heard the door slam on its squeaking hinges, a storm that churned
( ... )
Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer everyone.
[The mild tongue of his subordinate could assuage the most pother of souls. A lilt seeped in lore and harmony that one could not help but turn an ear to and listen, though the words shrouded in mysterious brogue. Despite the former arcane horror and qualms in the face of this Beast of Christ's burden Maxwell found himself soothed by Anderson's apparent awkwardness for a man of his great size; usually a sight that would cause the archbishop to smirk callously at and taunt him over
( ... )
† Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me. †
[ Anderson's legs halted at the pull of a taloned grip that bide him so solemnly, unable to muster any degree of resistance towards the desperation in that call even if he wished to. The implications behind doing so would prove his Betrayal, engraving that which could never be undone in Maxwell's stony heart.
He was bound as an embodiment of the Triquetra: Hand and foot; Tooth and nail; Intertwined completely in an interlaced weave as knotted as the Book of Kells to be delivered heart and soul to Service the very man whose existence he had shattered.
Theocratic Slave.
Were he not torn by his own actions, were he not guarding a secret that proved his Failing, Alexander would have been..Less careful, less anxious. He knew with every twinge of Guilt that struck that he could not mention a word of it, lest the Trust he'd tried so hard to build between them crumble into Dust, all for naught. Not now, at least.]Maxwell, ah woul' ne'er..Leave ye completelieh...
( ... )
I w-would be glad to. But, it's a-also a nice idea, to think that there c-could be a s-s-semblance of a regular s-schedule. S-small things like that, do g-give comfort, especially in s-such a difficult place.
Aye! Ye're righ' aboot thaet, yer Excellencieh. Ah'm joos' beginnin' tae see....Boot ah think ah ken whit ye mean. Ah've nae had ae proper Mass maeself, en soom time.
[Video] Late comment is late.heinesangelMarch 22 2010, 02:15:19 UTC
[The frequency becomes active shortly after, with a curious and familiar face appearing on screen. She is not able to see what is happening at present behind the inactive camera lens, but her eyes are roaming and ears listening closely for new sounds.
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[ His ears burned like white-hot irons stretched over silk that had been pressed and melted against them the instant the Archbishop's voice carried through the extension of space between them, a strangled purl gurgling in the back of his throat. He turned around slowly, suspended in time, as though he might silently wrest and prey on that sound and pin it down, so very afraid that silvery Roman tongue was nothing more than a chimera-a mirage-something surreal his mind had compensated for in the midst of his loneliness, his yearning, and his uncertainty regarding his Brother's well being.]
Y-ye...Ye're oot o' yer room! Scarcelieh saed ae word tae mae since ah bin....Though' ah migh' bae dreamin'...
[A sort of surprised pull of brows elevating upon his stressed brow, a flickering half-smile put into place for a brief interval. The expressed joviality soon dwindled unto the pitfall of melancholia and regret he'd allowed himself to be stewed into every time he heard the door slam on its squeaking hinges, a storm that churned ( ... )
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[The mild tongue of his subordinate could assuage the most pother of souls. A lilt seeped in lore and harmony that one could not help but turn an ear to and listen, though the words shrouded in mysterious brogue. Despite the former arcane horror and qualms in the face of this Beast of Christ's burden Maxwell found himself soothed by Anderson's apparent awkwardness for a man of his great size; usually a sight that would cause the archbishop to smirk callously at and taunt him over ( ... )
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Christ to comfort and restore me. †
[ Anderson's legs halted at the pull of a taloned grip that bide him so solemnly, unable to muster any degree of resistance towards the desperation in that call even if he wished to. The implications behind doing so would prove his Betrayal, engraving that which could never be undone in Maxwell's stony heart.
He was bound as an embodiment of the Triquetra: Hand and foot; Tooth and nail; Intertwined completely in an interlaced weave as knotted as the Book of Kells to be delivered heart and soul to Service the very man whose existence he had shattered.
Theocratic Slave.
Were he not torn by his own actions, were he not guarding a secret that proved his Failing, Alexander would have been..Less careful, less anxious. He knew with every twinge of Guilt that struck that he could not mention a word of it, lest the Trust he'd tried so hard to build between them crumble into Dust, all for naught. Not now, at least.]Maxwell, ah woul' ne'er..Leave ye completelieh... ( ... )
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Well...A-ah...Peter 4:7-11. Thae Scripture....Doin' kindness unto others en dark times..Et's important tae bind together.
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[Small inhale.]
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[Then why bother at all, I wonder.
Have a small hiss in return.]
K~k~shhh.
Esss thaet sssoo?
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What is he doing?]
...?
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[Glancing down he hears a small 'beep' and fishes the communicator device out of his pocket, peeeeering at the screen.]
O'...Dove..Ye...Gave mae a right fright, ye did.
[Chuckling low in his throat..]
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...
[Goodness. That wasn't something she expected to hear out of anyone in a million years.
Nill promptly bowed her head forward apologetically.]
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Checkin' oop on mae, ar' ye? Well..Joos' helpin' His Grace..E's doin' ae leetle better now thaet ah've gotten 'im tae eat.
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