02-28-2020, 01:40 AM
(This post was last modified: 02-28-2020, 01:42 AM by Patricus I.)
Stripped of the ruined garments, Philip was motionless in the bathroom as he considered the option to vomit. The thrill of the moment was passed, though, and instead, he entered the shower and promptly fell to his knees.
Knowing mankind to be shamefully heinous in standards of reliability, given his life as a confessor, he demanded proof of Regus' allegations independent of mankind's words. He trusted two things only: one more than the other, and his own emotions showed the way. Like John wildly beholding and unabashedly believing in the four beasts worshiping the lamb, there was no denial in Philip of what he witnessed.
The reason he was on the floor rather than enjoying the soothing heat of cleansing waters was the search for reconciliation. The church’s alliance with priests of war, the Lord’s creation of demons that walked the earth, and the rule of the Vicar of Iscariot as master demanded explanation. What inheritance is this?
The water stung his face as he leaned into its stream. Find your own answers, the thought bloomed. He opened his eyes and parted his lips to let the water penetrate. Soothing warmth followed.
Afterward, he sent word for the Regus of the Archives to join him for evening meal. The dining room in the papal apartments was simply attired and relatively unchanged for centuries. Despite available modern amenities, like electricity, candles illumined the space, a requirement imposed by Patricus I. They would remain the sole source of light the remainder of the night until he himself doused the final flute at bedside. In the meantime, others required his attention, but he dismissed any and all intrusions, choosing instead to study the well-worn pages of his Bible in solitude until the meal commenced.
At such time, he carried the small, black book in the crook of his arm, laying it carefully upon the table as he took the head chair. The attendant announced the arrival of a guest, to which Philip nodded allowance without discontinuing his reading.
Knowing mankind to be shamefully heinous in standards of reliability, given his life as a confessor, he demanded proof of Regus' allegations independent of mankind's words. He trusted two things only: one more than the other, and his own emotions showed the way. Like John wildly beholding and unabashedly believing in the four beasts worshiping the lamb, there was no denial in Philip of what he witnessed.
The reason he was on the floor rather than enjoying the soothing heat of cleansing waters was the search for reconciliation. The church’s alliance with priests of war, the Lord’s creation of demons that walked the earth, and the rule of the Vicar of Iscariot as master demanded explanation. What inheritance is this?
The water stung his face as he leaned into its stream. Find your own answers, the thought bloomed. He opened his eyes and parted his lips to let the water penetrate. Soothing warmth followed.
Afterward, he sent word for the Regus of the Archives to join him for evening meal. The dining room in the papal apartments was simply attired and relatively unchanged for centuries. Despite available modern amenities, like electricity, candles illumined the space, a requirement imposed by Patricus I. They would remain the sole source of light the remainder of the night until he himself doused the final flute at bedside. In the meantime, others required his attention, but he dismissed any and all intrusions, choosing instead to study the well-worn pages of his Bible in solitude until the meal commenced.
At such time, he carried the small, black book in the crook of his arm, laying it carefully upon the table as he took the head chair. The attendant announced the arrival of a guest, to which Philip nodded allowance without discontinuing his reading.