✞[ V. ]✞ Station of the Cross

[sanctus_cineris]

[ † ] Oaken doors swung wildly on their unoiled hinges as the Priest emerged from the threshold of sanctuary in a billow of grey and streaming purple lining, a dark wave passing over his countenance. Something thick, like mire, hung heavily in the air, almost stale but also oppressive like the dry insides of an empty tomb. Sturdy and immovable though he be, even the clergyman was not impervious to what hideous phantasms twisted beneath the plagued circuitry of the city, writhing eagerly to ensnare their next victim.

. . . Suffocating.

Ear-splitting screams that pierced, shrieked, and tore their way to the very hollow of his spirit faded away into something far worse...Dread. An ill feeling stuck through sinew and coiled tendon, gouging forth trepidation more potent than the nauseating stench of Death.

Decay. Rot. All withereth. All fadeth away.

Though the rays of day soaked upon his head they did not penetrate his mind. 

What now?

What will you do...

The monster's right HERE, Catholic!

Sweat began to dribble slowly, and then to pour down his temples, hand shakily sliding against his paling brow.

Green hues electrified and widened, tinged with straining red veins. His breathing turned ragged, and he unsteadily weaved forwards towards the bleak ruins of the cemetery, seeing yet unseeing in what could only be a living nightmare imprinted upon his retinas.

Midian. Midian. MIDIAN. 

ORDERS, ANDERSON: 

Capture Director Sir Hellsing. I want her alive.

[ † ]

Ggghhnnnnn...

[ † ] The Regenerator blindly slammed his fists into a massive slab of granite until knuckles bruised, and distinct indents chipped away the weathered headstone, the communicator shorting out as it tumbled down into the darkness of an open-faced grave. [ † ]

Comments

[Action!] sorry for my lateness! D:

[king-no-life.livejournal.com]

To the vampire it was like he was trapped in one of his absurd dreams, unable to awaken from opium-laced the madness.

"Enough of this!" A fierce shout cut the scene as redhot as the bullets that had been shot needlessly between them all.

First priority was always first.

And the Master's ultimate safety was always that. Leaving the delusional mercenary to his hairy girlfriend, Alucard shook off the molten silver that seethed his insides, vowing to turn the Catholic prat into ribbons the next time the Paladin was out of earshot of his girlish screams. In a stream of blood of shadows he leapt towards Arthur and into him, hauling him up and dashing with him back to the apartments.

He would be sure to tie him up along with Walter to keep the both of them from killing themselves whilst Hellsing's legacy crumbled around them.

[Action!]

[13th-crusader.livejournal.com]

It had all happened far too fast for the Archbishop to register. no sooner had he filled that infernal demon with several 45. caliber blessings, gunfire was raining in his direction. Only what hit him was a rain of blood specking across his pale cheek as his subordinate threw himself into the hail... and collapsed into the arms of that... that...

"Father.. you.."

Midian took such a drastic change in that moment. Should not his Betrayer of Betrayers have let him to be riddled with pikes? Left to die in a heap of writhing undead corpses? Wasn't that how it went!? The stark bemusement had Maxwell crippled in judgment, vernal instinct to clutch to his rock and savior over-riding everything.

In the flighty crusader's mind, Alucard's minions were receding with their master's flight, and he grasped to Anderson's shoulder to tug him up in the mercenary's grasp.

"God help us.. drag him inside with me!" Perhaps the man had defunct from the organization, there was hardly time to ask, let alone did he care for anything but the priest's survival.

[Action!] /made of fail >> Sorry guys OTL

[mintroyalcowboy.livejournal.com]

Pip decided not to ask questions. It would be better not to know why the Archbishop was asking for his help, nor would it do him any good to ask why the hell "Seras" was being referred to as 'him'.

He chalked it up to the lot of them being nuts and simply did as was asked of him.

It took a few tries, but he was finally able to properly shoulder the dead weight of the body in his grasp and started to drag them off inside.

[Action!] /Also fail..\

[sanctus-cineris.livejournal.com]

Metallic vermilion stung his nostrils, and he gasped, trying to catch his breath. The impact had left him temporarily stunned, though he still clutched a broken bayonet in his fist and held it over his chest as though it might defend him from whatever lay in wait.

"...Max...well......"

He gritted his teeth at being moved, pain shooting up from every nerve in his body.

"G...gaaahnnn...."