#outofconfessional:

[to-sin-no-more]

- - > { out of confessional }

Jordynn, I'm still crying over the fact that your tag for these two is 'don't knock it 'til you try it' I just --

[to-sin-no-more]

duxpathos replied to your post: (( Below the Cut Meme )) Twenty-Four.

" The hell was that for?! Ya know, when you give someone a compliment— " The younger paused as he stood up, dusting off the excess sand from his dark clothing. " — you don’t kick their ass on the floor. One more thing; I can totally kick your ass."

"It was a reminder that you should always keep your guard up. And is that so?" The Priest gestured lightly, still attempting not to seem quite as amused as he felt by the younger man's sense of bravado; as he watched the other straighten himself out, he could only shake his head lightly, the words drawing what might have been a very quiet chuckle from him. "Do remember, Jim, that hubris is a sin."

[to-sin-no-more]

To feel safe again, look over your shoulder; very carefully look over your shoulder. [Kirk/Priest]

I don't know; can't figure how he got out there. Just dazed, wandering around. No idea how long he'd been there.

The conversation was replaying itself in his mind as he sped across the desert toward the small outpost of Augustine. It was cool out, and the darkness clung to the ordinarily familiar landmarks, making them nearly unrecognizable, looming maybe-threats, shadows at the edges of his vision. His bike was too loud; the sound of its engine echoed back to him again, and again, but there was no helping it. It was the fastest way to travel, and the Sheriff had insisted that speed was important; he was out of his depth, and when that happened, he only ever knew one person to call.

There was just this light - never seen nothin' like it in my life. Pro'ly wouldn't have found him at all if it weren't for it. It's like he just fell outta the sky or somethin'. I can't make heads or tails of it.

A light as bright as the one Hicks had described was not a good thing, no matter how intrigued the man seemed by it; the fact of the matter was, light like that was bound to draw attention, and that was, historically speaking, never a good thing. And maybe he was imagining it, maybe it was his past creeping up on him, but he could swear he saw things in the distance, fast as his bike - and though he was sure it was just his imagination, it didn't stop him from leaning forward, and urging the machine faster. There was a sense of urgency coursing through him that had very little to do with the Sheriff's message, and everything to do with an awful sinking feeling he could only deem a bad gut feeling, and he really wished his gut had ever been wrong, but thus far...

Can't get much out of him - tossed him in a cell for the time being, but he's not looking so good. Figured if anyone could talk to him, it'd be you. I know you're busy and all, but it's too weird just to ignore. Figured I had to at least tell you.

At first, the other had called him on a lot of little things; Hicks, upon settling back in Augustine with Lucy, had developed a sort of newfound respect for the Priest, and had consulted him quite often. Too often, really, and he seemed to have picked up on that rather quickly; the calls had come less frequently, until they had come to a near stop. Just the occasional update on how they were doing, on how Lucy was coping in the aftermath of things - well, actually, all things considered - and any supposed vampire sightings. That was, perhaps, why he'd opted to respond with such haste to this call; Hicks had seemed...anxious. Unnerved by the stranger he'd found in the desert, and Isaacs had seen him face down more frightening things than a likely ill, dehydrated man.

So what about this man had left him so off balance, so eager to get him out there to see him for himself?

Shutting off the engine, he allowed the bike to coast up to the outpost, frowning in slight disapproval at the warm glow from the windows. Didn't Hicks know better by now, to keep them shuttered? To keep that glow carefully contained, to avoid immediate detection? He might as well set up a sign for a buffet...Swinging his leg up and over the bike, he kicked the stand out and moved across the distance to the house, steps muffled by the sand; even his breathing seemed loud in the sudden, nearly deafening silence left behind in the absence of the roaring engine, and he looked around warily before stepping onto the porch, eyeing the landscape for anything out of place, any movement - but he detected nothing, and so he moved up the stairs, and rapped twice on the door.

It opened almost immediately, light spilling upon the aged wood, and the figure of the Priest, whose frown had Hicks's own relieved smile fading into a sheepish, slightly uncertain look.

"You've got that, 'you messed up, Hicks' look on your face."

Isaacs lifted his brows, frown still in place, and glanced slowly at the windows as he stepped inside. Hicks swore, closed the door and locked it, throwing the shutters closed on the window and shaking his head, wiping a hand over his face.

"Aw, hell. Sorry about that; it's just, I got distracted." He seemed earnest enough, and that edge of uncertainty was back; he gestured at the cell across the room, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "He's over there. Hope you can make more of it than I can."

"You cannot afford to get distracted. Has he had water?"

Hicks blinked, as if the idea hadn't even occurred to him, and Isaacs gave him a slightly reproachful look that had the young man blushing in shame. "Sorry, I - "

But the protest was waved off impatiently as the Priest moved not to the cell, but to a cabinet, retrieving a cup and filling it with water, easing over to the bars only once he had water for the captive man; taking in the sight of him, he could understand why Hicks might have wanted him to be here. He certainly was an odd bird - what were those clothes he was wearing? They were entirely impractical for their climate.

After a quiet moment of observation, Isaacs drew up a chair, and offered the cup of water to the man behind the bars.

"You should drink. I do hope you will forgive the Sheriff's absent-mindedness."