Weel naw. Thaur's an idea!
[†]Putting all his weight onto the ice, he skids out to the LP and snatches it up. Clicking it off.[†]
[†]The screen blips back on from the inside of the priest's flat, the kitchen specifically, focusing on the giant man dwarfing the the fridge as he bends slightly to stick it to the freezer... after a few failed attempts with a tac, he looks over his shoulder cautiously, and flickers a childishly wicked grin as he slips a knife-sized bayonet and stabs the parchment into the surface.[†]
Och, 'at shood dae et!
[✞]( 1 Timothy 6:18 )[✞]
[†]Setting the LP down he gives the little device a cordial wave.[†]
Awrite Alice, wee Nina, Edward, Abel, Cain, Alphonse, Nia, Syaoran, Sora, Miss Mary, and onie other wee ones, Ah thooght as Ah got m'self an' m'brother settled here, it'd be bonne tae tak' comfort an' joy in uir new friends an' crisp weather th' Good Lord blessed us wit'.
[†]Holding up a pair of Victorian-age looking ice-skates, he actually crafted out of the blades of his bayonets, he smiles rather proud of his work.[†]
Who o' ye aw want tae go ice-skatin'?
[☧]( Confidential: Lady Hellsing )[☧]