#pathowing

@pathowing​​ said: [ text ] are you around?

[ text ] What’s going on? 

He shushes thin air, waving at an empty spot on the sidewalk.

" Look, as much as I love gutter chic, it's not worth freezing to death over.   So unless you see a dark bar with a glass window, we're shit outta luck. “

The church looms down at him, stretching up into the dark sky like an antennae for all his past sins. It’s late, or early, he supposes, and the idea of finding suitable lodging seems all too much effort at this hour. He follows the lines of the architecture down, eyes resting on a concrete rock near the front of the church.

" Besides, “ Klaus says, walking confidently toward the rock, picking it up, and aiming it at one of the ground floor windows,  “ the Lord and I are on excellent terms. "

                                                                               “ Dude, it’s a church ! “ 

His hand freezes, arm curled back, and he gives Ben a look as if to say ‘really?’. There’s a long pause, both of them waiting for the other to give in, before Klaus rolls his eyes and lets the rock fall from his hand. It’s too late for this.

“ ... Oh my god, fine. “

Sauntering over to the front entrance, Klaus gives a rhythmic rap to the front door, eyes on Ben while he waits for this not to work. Then he can break in.

It wasn’t unusual for people to find shelter in churches.

Klaus had learned that a long time ago, but he usually chose against it - there were other options, most of the time, and it just felt strange to sleep in the house of worship of a god he didn’t really believe in - and just in case that he did exist, Klaus didn’t want to risk angering the big guy. He already made a lot of choices on which he was most likely harshly judged.

That being said, though, when a snowstorm hit unexpectedly and he found himself very far from the nearest (and probably already crowded) shelter, the church he could just barely make out in the distance seemed like a lifeline. He ducked inside without a second thought, letting the heavy doors close behind and trap the cold and the snow outside.

Reginald Hargreeves was not a religious man, though he was more than acquainted with the local mausoleums. Klaus idly wonders, as he nears the church on the corner, if he paid the priests or whoever not to ask questions about the screaming child locked up in the crypts.

The moon is full and Klaus’s high is running... low. So he stops for a moment, thankful to have the soft glow from the street lights as he searches his pockets. Once found, he places a blunt between his lips and gropes around in his coat for his lighter. Out of the corner of his eye he catches sight of a woman standing under street light next to the church.  

“ Heeey, it’s awfully tacky of me to ask, I know, desperate times and all that. You happen to have a lighter on you ? ”

@pathowing​

A late night trip to the store to get milk and some other things, because she couldn’t sleep. Was now ending with one of her bags ripping, spilling the contents out onto the sidewalk. She huffs a sigh before bending down to try and gather them up. Not really paying much attention to anything around her, since she didn’t expect anyone to be out at this time.

He turns around to check on Millie--as far as he can tell, she’s never been in a fight before (hell, as far as he can tell, the girl has never even thrown a punch before) so it’ll be a miracle if she hasn’t gotten at least a little bruised up, and. Yeah.    

“Shit,” he kicks the still-warm corpses out of his way to get to her, to put a hand on her shoulder and ease her down to the ground, because the last thing she needs is to fall and knock herself out, “shit, okay, hold still.” He pulls back just enough to see the blood, inky black in the low light of the stars, oozing out from the ugly, uneven slash in her arm. It’s not an entry wound, he’s seen enough of those that he can tell with a glance, but it’s deep and bloody and probably hurts like a bitch. 

He strips the black tie off his throat and presses it to the wound--the second-to-last thing she needs is to pass out from blood loss. Or from seeing her own blood. (Okay, he’s not sure she’d pass out from seeing her own blood, but better safe than sorry.)      

“You’re in luck,” he tells her, and he means it. “The bullet only grazed you.” But that doesn’t mean she’s completely out of the woods, especially if she’s-- “Are you hurt anywhere else?”