[Having been on the bottom at some points in his life, Lancia can take a lot.]
[Leaning over the table, he tooks a look at the first few couple of pictures. Ken looks like a bunch of kids he’s seen around before, all energy and playfulness in that rough tumble sort of way which could endear a lot of people and annoy a whole lot of others.]
[It’s nothing at all like what the other picture shows, although Lancia knows it must be him. The void in his eyes makes something twist in his gut, as if a snake was curling around in his own body, and it reminds Lancia too much of too many things… none of them good. He takes in a slow, deep breath between his teeth.]
[It was said plainly enough, and while Mukuro pretended with most when it came to how much he cared, there had been something about Ken Joshima that he pitied and had wanted to protect. Perhaps it was because he had been so obedient and loyal and eager to please, and now he would lash out even at Mukuro. Or perhaps it was because through him, Mukuro was starting to see that there was might be repercussions for his actions and arrogance.
The question made Mukuro sigh as he sat down heavily.]
It's unclear. At first it was believed he was just ill, but then he began to attack people and himself.
[Mukuro's lashes lowered, a small frown overtaking his face.]
Now he only speaks an archaic form of Latin, and if you believe what can be translated, he's only the first.
[A vague cryptic answer, suffering, but Lancia decides to forgive Father Rokudo for that. He guesses when you’re dealing with demons, after all, things aren’t always clear cut. Glancing back down at the photos again despite the way they make his stomach turn, he grimaces.]
The first vessel. The beacon that will draw more demons here until there are no human souls left here.
[Though, considering how long this demon ( or demons ) had been inhabiting young Ken Joshima, meant that it was a slow process. Of course, Mukuro's translations were his own, and the other priests of his order were still arguing over semantics as if the context hadn't made the words clear.]
Sounds like a pretty confident sort of thing to say right off the bat.
[Without really meaning to, he finds himself slipping into old habits, like this is some meet up to discuss what group of punks are making a move into what will inevitably become a territory war.]
[That got a small, soft laugh out of Mukuro, who canted his head to the side to look over at Lancia more fully.]
Doesn't it? While I'm glad that their efforts have mostly be in vain, I would feel better if they had no vessels here at all.
[The question was met with a small frown as Mukuro leaned back into his chair.]
Without an exorcism, it is highly unlikely. Many doctors have tried many different treatments, and in the beginning most of our order were hopeful. Now we've only praying left. [A small pause.] And exorcism.
[But for many complicated political reasons, fear, and many of the priests being set in their ways, no one was going to recommend it, much less go through with it. Thankfully Mukuro wasn't restrained by such things.]
It's a tricky process to get an exorcism sanctioned.
[More like a near impossible, colossally slow process that none of the other priests seemed keen on initiating. None of them wanted to be held accountable for if something happened due to their decisions, and nor did they want to do more than overlook the very real suffering of a child in front of them. Mukuro's brow furrowed, and he looked away, resisting the urge to scowl.]
For now, I would appreciate if you could help me bathe and feed him. His parents do his best, but I would like to give them some reprieve.
[A frustrated noise has to be choked in the back of Lancia’s throat, and he tries to keep himself in check by curling his fingers into the palm of his hand. It all sounds like bureaucratic red tape nonsense, the kind of thing he can remember more than one person in his past sneering about and dipping into more…. Questionable ways of speeding things up.]
[But that’s not his life anymore, so he take in a deep breath and nods.]
[Not like he had a lot to do anyway- he supposes that’s a good thing now. Already starting to feel worked up, he begins to press back on his fingers and crack his knuckles.]
So I take it I should dress in anything I don’t care about losing tomorrow?
[His smile was almost genuine, half because it would be a relief to not be struck and because Lancia was so kind hearted and willing. Usually these types were the easiest to manipulate.
At the question, Mukuro nodded, expression lapsing back into a serious one.]
While it might seem counter intuitive, I would also advise against a cross. It might enrage the demon more than protect you.
Honestly, while I hadn’t wanted to admit it… [He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.] I had been planning to skip out on that anyway. Having a pendant around your neck can make it pretty easy for someone to choke you.
There's no need to be hesitant when it comes to this. These are extenuating circumstances, I am sure God understands. Though, perhaps I am cheating...
[Unabashed, Mukuro started to take off his priest robes, hanging them up with the reverence the deserved before turning and rolling up part of his shirt. He had never been one for tattoos, but he had to consider he was dealing with demons. If he couldn't wear a cross, he might as well have one inked into his skin, and a large ornate one at that.
He let his shirt fall back into place as quickly as it had registered, before straightening his clothes.]
While the demon mostly speaks in Latin, it has been known to switch to a more current tongue to reveal unflattering secrets and tell lies. I would suggest you ignore anything it says.
[Things he never thought he’d see: a priest with a tattoo.]
[Lancia can’t help but smile at the sight of it. If nothing else, it’s appropriate to his profession. The look is only there for a second, smoothing out his rough face, before it’s gone again as they get back to business.]
I’m familiar with that sort of tactic, although usually from regular people and nothing like this. It throws off people, gets them jittery, right? [Beat.] And, honestly, the biting won’t be new either.
[He’s lead an…. Interesting life. To put it in the most polite terms.]
Anyway… I’ll remember all of it, and I promise to meet with you for it. I won’t run away.
[Did Mukuro look a bit too interested by the fact that Lancia apparently was no stranger to biting? He would chalk it up to the fact that he would have the man come to him if he needed to talk about it.]
You sound like you're going to be suitably equipped to deal with this.
[He crossed the space between them, putting a gentle hand on Lancia's arm, softening his expression.]
There's no one who will think less of you if you did decide this was too much. It is a lot to ask of from someone so new, and I appreciate your willingness to help and your discretion. May God bless you and watch over you.
[While he’s hesitant to say why he’s “suitably equipped”, he still manages a dry smile as the priest lays his hand on his arm. Gently, he rests his own over it.]
I made a promise. I wouldn’t be any kind of man if I didn’t keep it. God bless you, Father.
[And with that, he takes his leave. It looks like he’ll have to prepare himself for the night, after all, even if only mentally and spiritually. There’s not much more for him to do besides that.]
[When he arrives at the church the following evening, he’s in pretty much the same clothes as what he wore when he was helping with the building efforts for the parishioners house: a simple t-shirt that had seen better days but was still fit for being in public and some worn jeans. He’s cracking his knuckles as he looks around for Mukuro, an old habit to work out energy and make sure he doesn’t cramp up when it’s important.]
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badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
no subject
[Having been on the bottom at some points in his life, Lancia can take a lot.]
[Leaning over the table, he tooks a look at the first few couple of pictures. Ken looks like a bunch of kids he’s seen around before, all energy and playfulness in that rough tumble sort of way which could endear a lot of people and annoy a whole lot of others.]
[It’s nothing at all like what the other picture shows, although Lancia knows it must be him. The void in his eyes makes something twist in his gut, as if a snake was curling around in his own body, and it reminds Lancia too much of too many things… none of them good. He takes in a slow, deep breath between his teeth.]
How’d he get like that?
no subject
[It was said plainly enough, and while Mukuro pretended with most when it came to how much he cared, there had been something about Ken Joshima that he pitied and had wanted to protect. Perhaps it was because he had been so obedient and loyal and eager to please, and now he would lash out even at Mukuro. Or perhaps it was because through him, Mukuro was starting to see that there was might be repercussions for his actions and arrogance.
The question made Mukuro sigh as he sat down heavily.]
It's unclear. At first it was believed he was just ill, but then he began to attack people and himself.
[Mukuro's lashes lowered, a small frown overtaking his face.]
Now he only speaks an archaic form of Latin, and if you believe what can be translated, he's only the first.
no subject
The first what, exactly?
no subject
[Though, considering how long this demon ( or demons ) had been inhabiting young Ken Joshima, meant that it was a slow process. Of course, Mukuro's translations were his own, and the other priests of his order were still arguing over semantics as if the context hadn't made the words clear.]
no subject
[Without really meaning to, he finds himself slipping into old habits, like this is some meet up to discuss what group of punks are making a move into what will inevitably become a territory war.]
Can it be gotten out of him…?
no subject
Doesn't it? While I'm glad that their efforts have mostly be in vain, I would feel better if they had no vessels here at all.
[The question was met with a small frown as Mukuro leaned back into his chair.]
Without an exorcism, it is highly unlikely. Many doctors have tried many different treatments, and in the beginning most of our order were hopeful. Now we've only praying left. [A small pause.] And exorcism.
[But for many complicated political reasons, fear, and many of the priests being set in their ways, no one was going to recommend it, much less go through with it. Thankfully Mukuro wasn't restrained by such things.]
no subject
Is there a way I can help with that, then…? I mean, the kid is skin and bones- there won’t be much left of him soon enough.
no subject
[More like a near impossible, colossally slow process that none of the other priests seemed keen on initiating. None of them wanted to be held accountable for if something happened due to their decisions, and nor did they want to do more than overlook the very real suffering of a child in front of them. Mukuro's brow furrowed, and he looked away, resisting the urge to scowl.]
For now, I would appreciate if you could help me bathe and feed him. His parents do his best, but I would like to give them some reprieve.
no subject
[But that’s not his life anymore, so he take in a deep breath and nods.]
I think I can do tat.
no subject
[Mukuro allowed his face to crumple into something that looked like relief and gratitude, flicking his gaze up to Lancia's face with a small smile.]
If you don't mind helping, come see me here tomorrow evening.
no subject
[Not like he had a lot to do anyway- he supposes that’s a good thing now. Already starting to feel worked up, he begins to press back on his fingers and crack his knuckles.]
So I take it I should dress in anything I don’t care about losing tomorrow?
no subject
[His smile was almost genuine, half because it would be a relief to not be struck and because Lancia was so kind hearted and willing. Usually these types were the easiest to manipulate.
At the question, Mukuro nodded, expression lapsing back into a serious one.]
While it might seem counter intuitive, I would also advise against a cross. It might enrage the demon more than protect you.
no subject
[A lesson he knows from both ends.]
Anything else I should be prepared for?
no subject
[Unabashed, Mukuro started to take off his priest robes, hanging them up with the reverence the deserved before turning and rolling up part of his shirt. He had never been one for tattoos, but he had to consider he was dealing with demons. If he couldn't wear a cross, he might as well have one inked into his skin, and a large ornate one at that.
He let his shirt fall back into place as quickly as it had registered, before straightening his clothes.]
While the demon mostly speaks in Latin, it has been known to switch to a more current tongue to reveal unflattering secrets and tell lies. I would suggest you ignore anything it says.
[There was a small, thoughtful pause.]
He also is found of biting.
no subject
[Lancia can’t help but smile at the sight of it. If nothing else, it’s appropriate to his profession. The look is only there for a second, smoothing out his rough face, before it’s gone again as they get back to business.]
I’m familiar with that sort of tactic, although usually from regular people and nothing like this. It throws off people, gets them jittery, right? [Beat.] And, honestly, the biting won’t be new either.
[He’s lead an…. Interesting life. To put it in the most polite terms.]
Anyway… I’ll remember all of it, and I promise to meet with you for it. I won’t run away.
no subject
You sound like you're going to be suitably equipped to deal with this.
[He crossed the space between them, putting a gentle hand on Lancia's arm, softening his expression.]
There's no one who will think less of you if you did decide this was too much. It is a lot to ask of from someone so new, and I appreciate your willingness to help and your discretion. May God bless you and watch over you.
no subject
I made a promise. I wouldn’t be any kind of man if I didn’t keep it. God bless you, Father.
[And with that, he takes his leave. It looks like he’ll have to prepare himself for the night, after all, even if only mentally and spiritually. There’s not much more for him to do besides that.]
[When he arrives at the church the following evening, he’s in pretty much the same clothes as what he wore when he was helping with the building efforts for the parishioners house: a simple t-shirt that had seen better days but was still fit for being in public and some worn jeans. He’s cracking his knuckles as he looks around for Mukuro, an old habit to work out energy and make sure he doesn’t cramp up when it’s important.]