Now that you think about it, there's one person you haven't had a proper conversation with in a bit, and the moment before you slug it out with a betentacled golden calf is probably a good time to do so.
While the assorted strays you've rounded up have fun for this first time in the evening, you try to find some isolated part of the chapel where the floor won't turn your knees into a Jackson Pollock painting. Though options are terribly limited, you eventually locate a good spot and kneel.
Christ, Agatha must have some calluses for the ages.
Due to the chapel's lack of huge, badass crucifixes, which you intend to correct once all this nonsense is over with, you place the one around your neck before you, lower your head, and close your eyes. You've got quite a backlog, you realize, but there's always time.
You pray for Gascoigne and Viola, that they may find peace together and await their children in paradise, though they shall wait for a very, very long time.
For Eileen, Iosefka, Djura, and Steffon, so wronged by this world, that they may find joy in the arms of God.
For Agatha, Arianna, and the rest of your flock, that they may survive the coming storm and prosper in the new world you build together.
For Yharnam's sinners, that they may hear the voice of the LORD and renounce their ways before His glory.
And for yourself, that you may have the strength to spread His Word in fire and steel.
Your ears perk up at the sound of footsteps, disguised decently but not well enough. You open an eye to see Iosefka padding towards you. She notices your noticing her, but before she can unleash the apology you can practically see building in her throat, you wave her over with a smile. She kneels down next to you, trying several different spots for her knee before finding one that, judging by her relatively small grimace, is only slightly agonizing.
"If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to join you in prayer. I'm afraid I don't know any, however."
"Eh, it's about what's in yer heart, anyway. Go right ahead, Doctor."
She does so, and the cheering from the entrance fades from your mind as you enjoy the absolute serenity of the LORD. You only vaguely hear the two sets of feet, so much lighter than the doctor's, approach from your side and sink downwards.
When you open your eyes and stand after howevermuch time, you feel invigorated, and the deep breath you take tastes of honey and cloves.
You are Alexander Fucking Anderson, and you are never going to lose again.
[] Talk to
-[] Who?
[] Go to Upper Cathedral Ward
[] Write in...