http://chapelsend.livejournal.com/ (
chapelsend.livejournal.com) wrote in
realityshifted2008-05-08 11:29 am
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[it's a crumbling bit of stone and sitting on the edge of it is Wolfwood, a bottle of Wild Turkey in one hand and a bloody piece of paper in the other. he looks down at the paper, snarls, crumples it and tosses it before taking a long drink from the bottle. Setting it down he digs out his cigarettes, lits up and inhales, leaning forward and frowning. He doesn't move after that, the smoke curling around his head, and his expression cold.]

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What happened?
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[looks around for a moment and shakes his head] I think I did.
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You don't have to tell me.
[Pauses.] Everyone makes mistakes. Even priests, from time to time.
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[is silent for a moment] Sometimes I wonder why I try to be one.
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What about those kids, though? The orphans? Or the people in town who rely on you? I bet they're all glad you at least try.
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They're glad to have me, I guess. They don't seem to care about some of my quirks.
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