dusty_angelus: (Anderson - Father)
[†]Video flicks on from breast-pocket level, focusing upon a weaving white-gloved hand and feathered quill-pen dancing Gregorian calligraphy across ancient parchment paper. The man who writes diligently while humming the melody of The Crusader's Hymn: Fairest Lord Jesus, pauses in his penned thoughts every so often to look back, keeping vigil over the man he's leading through this foreign territory.[†]

[]Isaiah 66:22 )[]

[†]A sudden wind kicks up, fluttering the manuscript from the book he was bracing it upon, and out of his grasp.[†]

Aye! Wait ae tic!

[†]Chasing after the sailing parchment it stops at the foot of the apartment buildings he had been searching for via the LP's GPS. Kneeling to pick the paper up, he glances to the number on the door. H:14.[†]

O'hooh, thes is th' one... bit it lochs occupied.

[†]Glancing through the front window he notes it looks too well finished not to be owned by someone. Yet this was the right door to the key he was given, given that as he pushed it into the lock, it turned without qualm. Creaking the door open, with several knocks, he peers in with caution.[†]


Awrite thaur! Anyone alife here?




OOC )

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Alexander Anderson

November 2021

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