Mankind's † XIII † Defender

 
[ † ] Shrill screams. Unearthly howling. Die...Die...Die...In the end they would fall before him in droves, their lifeless husks left in cross-shaped streaks of acidic blood. For who has assailed him and come off safe—who in all the heavens?

Swiftly he glided through the city streets, ducking in and out of sight, with the heavy crunch of bone and spiny husk of Lavos spawn beneath his heel. This was Madness. Slaughter. Retribution. Divine Glory. He was Reborn: The Saviour, making the new man from the old, so that he might restore the nature which had been corrupted. A monster of Divine Providence.  See, beside you I made Behemoth, that feeds on grass like an ox. Behold the strength in his loins, and his vigor in the sinews of his belly. He carries his tail like a cedar; the sinews of his thighs are like cables. His bones are like tubes of bronze; his frame is like iron rods.
Built for one Purpose. For one purpose he would Serve, and for one purpose he would die. Like straw...Like straw they were..And he, who would patrol the streets would be the gale to sweep the sinners all away. For neither was he man, nor beast. Should any approach—Should any dare—he would be as iron to straw, and bronze to rotten wood. Intrepid he was made. All, however lofty, would fear him; he is king over all proud beasts. [ † ]

[ooc: Father Anderson has made his reappearance Post-Nail in the series. He will be a Divine Punisher, seeking to accost any that cross paths with him that appear even remotely vampiric/demonic.]

( "O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell, lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy. Amen." )

Residents o' Discedo: Thaes es Faither Andersoon. Ef ye ar' en need o' sanctuary, coom tae St. Peter's church. Thaer es shelter fer all who migh' seek refuge.


[ooc: Father Anderson is offering shelter to anyone in Discedo who will need it. The church has been reinforced to withstand fire and the undercroft can be used as a bomb shelter. Since it is made of stone it is arguably one of the most secure buildings in Discedo.]

( Brushing his hands free of contact, trembling grips are in dread... )

( My days are like a shadow that declineth; and I am withered like grass. )

What now?

What will you do...

The monster's right HERE, Catholic!
(  The voice said: Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field: The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: because the spirit of the LORD bloweth upon it: surely the people is grass. )

 [ † ] 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.

Over the past week the city's weather had remained frigid enough to where even the blankets on the Archbishop's bed had ceased to keep him warm, and the frost adhered to stone, sinking deeper and deeper into his bones the more he'd spent time outside and pushing himself to take care of his ward though he did not immediately realize it.

The Priest's lips parted to expel a trail of mist from his hot breath, and he inhaled, wintry air pushing forcefully into his nasal cavities.

Sneezes quite suddenly, covering his mouth to stifle a fit of coughing. [ † ]

O'...O' bother.

[ooc: The suppression of his regenerative powers has made his immune system equivalent to that of a normal human. That being said, he is equally as vulnerable to illness as anyone else. While he's normally able to withstand a good deal of punishment, the combined efforts of not sleeping well, not eating well, and neglecting his own needs has finally taken its toll.

This is for a comment-log set back to this thread, but feel free to respond.]