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Jul. 7th, 2011

an edge and a charm

one (new testament)

Hey there, friends. I’ve been told it’s been quite a while. Cleaning off all that goo isn’t any more fun the third time around, but I think I’ve got the hang of it.

[The journal page singes slightly in a couple of spots, as though someone’s just shaken burning ashes off the end of their cigarette. Because someone has.]

I took a walk around to see if much has changed. It’s a little disappointing. The name was Chapel, but you can call me Wolfwood if you want. Nicholas D. Wolfwood. I’m just a humble priest who God has sent back to this land of Eden to tend the flock. That or I had some pretty bad hooch last night. But hey, who am I to question the Lord’s plan?

Oh yeah, one more thing. If anyone’s still got my gun, I’d like it back. I don’t have much money right now, but I don’t expect it for free--fair’s fair. But I’m sure we can make an agreement. Let’s say five free confessions to cover the maintenance while I was gone.

Jul. 6th, 2011

pensive priest

dream redux

Everything was sand and sky. He lifted his cigarette to his mouth and inhaled as he realized he hadn’t expected anything else. Not that he could remember expecting anything at all--what had he been doing a minute ago? He wasn’t sure. All he could remember was being here in this twilit desert.

So he walked. It didn’t matter which direction he picked when everything looked the same, so he just moved forward. The weight of the large, canvas-wrapped item he carried on his shoulder was heavy, but for some reason he didn’t question it. This was a burden he could bear.
He looked down after a while and noticed a set of footsteps in the sand. Stopping for a moment, he placed his foot beside one. Exactly the same size, and that was another thing that didn’t surprise him. Somehow he knew that the footprints were his own, and he had walked this path before.

Why was he here now, if he’d been this way before and moved on? Why did he keep going instead of picking another direction or trying something else entirely? He paused briefly with the intention of setting down the thing he carried, but the suns rose higher in the sky and he knew that to stop now would invite death.

He kept walking. Voices drifted on the wind, specific words unintelligible but their sentiment and emotion perfect clear. A woman’s voice, bright and sunny, and he felt his lips curve into a smile. Then the voice of a man who sounded old and young at the first time, terrible grief in his words. The smile fell away then, and he wondered how he could hurt when he didn’t even know who was speaking or what he said. And then another man’s voice, lively and fairly bursting with scandalous intention. He knew that voice, liked that voice.

Then there was just silence.

Eventually he came to what looked like a path in the dirt, and a while after that, a fork in the path. He squinted off to the left, and he could barely make out what looked like trees and greenery. Something like a glass dome over it gleamed in the sun. An Eden, of sorts, but it just might be a mirage. To the right was more dirt and desert. There was nothing different from what he’d seen so far, but there was something familiar and comfortable about the idea of going that way. Why not?

He hesitated, though. It was just a path, a direction, and if he chose the wrong one, well, there were ways of changing things around to his advantage. But something inside him said this was important. The choice he made now could change everything. His future, and maybe the futures of the people whose voices he’d heard. Whose voices he would like to hear again.

Maybe then he’d remember how he’d gotten here, and why he was so very tired. Even if he didn’t know what they were, he was certain that he had things to do. He just needed the chance to do them.

He lifted his foot and took a step forward.

Jun. 29th, 2010

man of the cloth


Good morning, boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen. You know, there's a lot of industriousness in this sphere we call home. It does this humble priest good to walk around the bazaar and see so many people hard at work. God helps those who help themselves, though.

But it's not just your physical welfare that counts. You've got to think of your spiritual health—it'll matter when we go to that great tree in the sky! Assuming there is one outside the glass. But hey, don't let me go on like this. Starting today, you can find me six nights a week taking confessions and issuing blessings at the bar. It's all part of my vocation.

Oh, yeah, and the blessings are free if you spot me a drink.

May. 11th, 2010

in your face


[Written in an angry scrawl]

If anyone heard gunfire near this...thundering mountain place, don't bother sending help. I was just blowing off a little steam. No one's injured.

Anyone got a light? I dropped mine.

[ooc: yeaaaaah he got teleported and shot up the smoking area with the cross punisher's machine gun.]

Apr. 25th, 2010

man of the cloth


I guess it's about time I shared something with the flock. I thought about keeping it private at first, but honesty is a virtue.

I remembered my name. I'll still go by Chapel--I've gotten kinda fond of it--but if you want to, you can call me Nicholas. Nicholas D. Wolfwood.

Mar. 27th, 2010

what the


Vultus amo iter itineris es ieiunium super iterum huh? Ego cannot narro ego did non reputo is eram funny permaneo vicis , tamen is has got futurus pulchellus molestus cetera of vos--

Quis abyssus est is.

TranslationCollapse )

Feb. 24th, 2010

i spoke as a child


This is bullshit. Someone tell the guy in the bazaar to sell me some cigarettes.

I'm not too young to smoke. I bought six packs from him last week!

Feb. 16th, 2010

i might be stoned


You know, it's too bad all everyone grew up again. After a few days, I'm really starting to missing having a bunch of kids running around.

Jan. 21st, 2010

in your face


I'm going to show some creatures in the Wilderness the mercy of almighty God if anyone needs me.

Don't wait up.

Jan. 6th, 2010

an edge and a charm


Hey, Grift, make room at home. I'm bringing back a guest.

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