Half a year in Oslo had been a long while just staring at the walls of his little hotel room. Sean was ready to be out and about, but also ready to get rid of as many of the evil arseholes that were populating the land as possible.
While the rest of them seemed like a curious mixture of a travellers in their festive and less festive summer clothes, Sean wore his cassock as he boarded the train. One would find a pair of tattered jeans underneath and an old t-shirt but on top he looked like a clean shaven preacher. Except for the fact that his cassock was littered with bullet holes and tears and even the white slip around his collar wasn't very white anymore.
He slept most of the trip. Just nodding off whenever the train would leave a station. He didn't unpack, all of his belongings stayed in his backpack except for the guns that he took out on the last stride before Stockholm. Two large hand guns that had enough of a kick to make his shoulders ache. He opened them and cleaned them meticulously before applying grease where it was needed and then started to put them back together.
Sean >> anyone, day 6, Gulf of Bothnia
After the escapades with the creature that the locals called Näkki Sean decides that it's best to crank up his protections. He's been possessed before, it's not completely new to him to lose his mind over magic. But it doesn't make it any easier even if he has experience of it.
After the demon rode him for what felt like a decade, he felt broken and hollow, dirty from inside out, but now he doesn't even know what he's feeling. But he avoids looking directly at the creature that they fished out of the sea, just in case he would feel that mad desire again.
He settles to the prow of the boat and brings out a few items from his backpack. A bottle of water, a smaller bottle of oil, a small packet of salt and a candle, which he lights first of all.
Come get a blessing from the reluctant priest? Or just bother him with his business?
"Nice guns," Marjukka states, coffee in hand and taking a seat opposite of Sean. "You always carry both of them on you?" she asks. She's spent most of the train ride scribbling away in a little journal, tallying things and scrawling notes for preparations in case they were overlooked. After all, just because the government was footing the bill on this one doesn't mean that they've got everything they need.
In fact, it means that she's paranoid that it seems from the list that they do have everything they need, so she wants to double- and triple-check like a mother hen.
Finally, she's gotten some coffee to calm her nerves and has decided to come sit with the sleeping man only to find that he's finally awake.
Think the devil and he shall appear by your shoulder. Aulis has been swimming around as if lurking and haunting the ship, waiting for his prey to loosen its grip. But he climbed aboard a little while ago to rest; he prefers to be in the water but he can't afford to lose the way.
Therefore, he's been stalking the ship, and sleeping on it as well. He kicked the Swedish boy out of his designated quarters last night, as he commandeered the bed and the boy had refused to sleep next to him. Just as well, Aulis thinks, because he's sure the rest of them wouldn't miss him so terribly.
Quietly, he makes his way to the priest outside; priests smell different to Aulis, and this one is no different. He lurks in the doorway first, but then approaches, picking up the packet of salt. He holds it up and tilts his head as if to ask what it is.
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ainomieli2018-07-30 04:22 am
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Half a year in Oslo had been a long while just staring at the walls of his little hotel room. Sean was ready to be out and about, but also ready to get rid of as many of the evil arseholes that were populating the land as possible.
While the rest of them seemed like a curious mixture of a travellers in their festive and less festive summer clothes, Sean wore his cassock as he boarded the train. One would find a pair of tattered jeans underneath and an old t-shirt but on top he looked like a clean shaven preacher. Except for the fact that his cassock was littered with bullet holes and tears and even the white slip around his collar wasn't very white anymore.
He slept most of the trip. Just nodding off whenever the train would leave a station. He didn't unpack, all of his belongings stayed in his backpack except for the guns that he took out on the last stride before Stockholm. Two large hand guns that had enough of a kick to make his shoulders ache. He opened them and cleaned them meticulously before applying grease where it was needed and then started to put them back together.
Sean >> anyone, day 6, Gulf of Bothnia
After the escapades with the creature that the locals called Näkki Sean decides that it's best to crank up his protections. He's been possessed before, it's not completely new to him to lose his mind over magic. But it doesn't make it any easier even if he has experience of it.
After the demon rode him for what felt like a decade, he felt broken and hollow, dirty from inside out, but now he doesn't even know what he's feeling. But he avoids looking directly at the creature that they fished out of the sea, just in case he would feel that mad desire again.
He settles to the prow of the boat and brings out a few items from his backpack. A bottle of water, a smaller bottle of oil, a small packet of salt and a candle, which he lights first of all.
Come get a blessing from the reluctant priest? Or just bother him with his business?
train
In fact, it means that she's paranoid that it seems from the list that they do have everything they need, so she wants to double- and triple-check like a mother hen.
Finally, she's gotten some coffee to calm her nerves and has decided to come sit with the sleeping man only to find that he's finally awake.
no subject
Therefore, he's been stalking the ship, and sleeping on it as well. He kicked the Swedish boy out of his designated quarters last night, as he commandeered the bed and the boy had refused to sleep next to him. Just as well, Aulis thinks, because he's sure the rest of them wouldn't miss him so terribly.
Quietly, he makes his way to the priest outside; priests smell different to Aulis, and this one is no different. He lurks in the doorway first, but then approaches, picking up the packet of salt. He holds it up and tilts his head as if to ask what it is.