Entreißen [PaperHat]

Ehrbarkeit

I'm on a writing frenzy, the next chapter might come soon as well, lmao.

The Father's service carries on for what feels like entirely too long. Most of the people responded enthusiastically to the sermon, clapping when he finished a point and calling 'Amen' in agreement. Flug retreats into himself through most of it, loosing himself in his own mind. They drift to back at the manor, to what's he'd been working on before leaving, to his boss. His chest still aches for his old life, for resting against 5.0.5 after a stressful day with a book the bear probably didn't understand yet listened to. For telling off Dementia after nearly setting his blueprints on fire. For the incomparable pride of his inventions being even slightly praised by BlackHat.

Those thoughts sent a pain through his chest, that familiar yearning ache for something that was no more.

With a shake of his head he forces his gaze to focus on the Father, hands on the altar, gripping both sides as he spoke to the crowd. His words didn't reach his ears, lost somewhere in the space in which his thoughts and want to pay attention battled for control of his mind. Truthfully, neither seemed to win as he sat there, thinking of nothing in particular and listening to nothing. Movement in front of him has him suddenly snapping back to earth. Father Alexander moves, Bible in hand and robes swaying as he stops. There's this hard look in his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed tightly with determination. His knuckles white around the holy book.

"And we shall rid this land of the demons that plague it! We shall take them from the bodies of the Lord's people and expel them back to where they came!" A small chorus of 'Amens!' follows. "Fear not if the devil has taken hold of your loved ones, if evil lays its mark upon your skin! We are here to aid you in your time of need. Come to us and we shall save your soul so the Lord may smile upon you again."

He walks back behind the altar and places the Bible back down. His eyes scan the room, he looks a different person from the man he meant on the first day. His soft edges had turned sharp and unforgiving. He looked on his followers like the audience of the auction had looked at him. Like meat on a plate presented to a hungry man, eager to tear it apart for everything its worth.

His eyes suddenly meet with Flug's and grips onto the altar again, leaning forwards. "No demon shall dig its claws into your soul and being as long as your in this church."

After the service, the Father mingles flawlessly with those that attended. His demeanor has changed to loud laughs and dopey smiles. Esther is at his side, tittering at something the Father has said. Flug remains in his seat, watching the people move about. No one seems to notice the peculiar feeling lingering in the air, or the way the Father's smile falters and his eyes linger when someone leaves. Ajah does not appear until everyone has left, poking his head from the back door like a child might. He steps out, dressed in new robes, and looks around. Spotting Flug he gives him a small wave and climbs the short stairs up onto the pulpit. The Father and Esther see everyone out as Ajah tidies the Father's papers.

"Did you enjoy the Father's service?" He asks, looking over at him as he puts all the loose papers back in order. Flug hums and rises from his seat.

"I couldn't keep focus." He admits and runs his palms along the material of his trousers. Berith had leant him some old clothes to change into when he left the home. All the trousers he had been given were far too long, and had to be rolled up four times so they stopped at his ankle instead of past his foot.

"Ah, did you not sleep last night?" He asks as the large doors of the church close. Esther's heels click quietly on the tile behind them.