To: --- --- ---- // 03:13 AM
If this is Levi Bradley’s number, I’m at the 24/7 Diner on Main Street I’ll be here until 6 If your lazy ass doesn't show up, I’ll be moving on then This is Wesley, BTW
@halfwaytohades I am already crying

seen from China
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from China

seen from Germany
seen from Switzerland

seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Yemen

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Norway

seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany

seen from Australia
seen from Germany
To: --- --- ---- // 03:13 AM
If this is Levi Bradley’s number, I’m at the 24/7 Diner on Main Street I’ll be here until 6 If your lazy ass doesn't show up, I’ll be moving on then This is Wesley, BTW
@halfwaytohades I am already crying
Spotting newcomers isn’t difficult when it comes to a small parish such as St. Francis. Though the largest congregation in a town of four thousand, the parish consists of only four hundred people, only about a third of which attend church regularly --- half, if Boucher is being generous. Suffice it to say a foreign face sitting among the back pews easily sticks out like a sore thumb --- though past the sermon, past the chatter afterwards, once the preacher has bid his farewell to the last of the parishioners at the modest building’s doors, he turns to greet the stranger with as warm and kind a smile as he would any of his children (the latter being a metaphoric term, of course; for David, a man of the cloth, has never and will never be wed, nor father any biological children). This he does despite every fiber of his being telling him that this stranger is different. This is more than just a gut feeling, one he has learned to recognize nearly thirty years ago --- one that tells him this man is more than he appears to be. The preacher is not certain he would be able to describe this feeling --- a sort of drawing from within himself, a vibration, one kind of power calling to another like wolves howling in the night --- but he does know, with conviction, that he can feel it in his bones. Curious. He has only ever felt this way towards the Edwards kid, and only when they have been within physical proximity --- something that has happened so few times he can count the amount on one hand alone --- but this cannot possibly have any relation to that, to him. There are only that infuriatingly dumb boy and himself --- the Prophecy has never pertained to a third party. Very curious indeed.
“Anything I might be able to help you with?” He offers, signature disarming smile stretched all across his face, hands humbly held in one another in front of his body, “It isn’t every day we get to see a new face around here.”
@halfwaytohades plotted a thing.