“I’m watching you, ratty boy. You may be the one ascending to the Papal throne, but I’m probably the strongest bastard inside these walls, and I don’t buy your bullshit “too nervous to function” charade. Got it??” He snarled, giving his hands the slightest shake to further his intent to scare the Cardinal.
“I’m watchin’ you, and I won’t hesitate to eat you like the rat you are if I hear you’ve stepped outta line.” He hissed again, before simply letting go of Copia’s shirt and dropping him where he stood.
❛ I, ieuh, iohh . . . ❜ Gibberish. Nonsensical muttering and stuttering. It’s all he can manage in the overbearing heat of the moment, feeling akin to a child scolded by its father. Perhaps he’d underestimated or even insulted the collective intelligence of The Clergy. Fortunately for him he learned from his mistakes.
His head dipped in reverence, trying to estimate the right time to open his mouth without warranting a crack to the face. The Cardinal hopes his pitiful display is enough to incite some level of forgiveness, if such a thing existed in this vacuous, joyless cathedral. ❛ I would never defile the others’ faith in me, and, uh. Please, do excuse my impertinence. It may be that I’ve become too comfortable —— Heh, ❜ He felt clammy and nervous. Ironic, that the charlatan becomes his lie.
