trans_9 | This Old Basilica [Rated R for Cussing]

Down in the city, there is a loud crash. Followed by several bangs. And they're coming from the Vatican. From inside St. Peter's Basilica to be exact.

Sawyer is inside the massive cathedral, hard at work--for once. The top of his leaf suit lowered as he, dripping sweat, toiled away in the church. Having discovered a set of iron tools in one of the museums, he is busy making some not-so-subtle renovations to what had been--before it was stolen--the seat of the Catholic church and the home of the pope. The heavy pews are no longer anchored down and have been moved against one wall. Some will be nailed together to form beds, while others will be ripped apart and used to cover the stained-glass windows.

All the candles in the basilica have been collected and lay on the altar waiting to be sorted. All the gold and silver in St. Peter's--including most of the candelabras--have been tossed into two separate piles to be melted down and made into bullets. They'll eventually be joined by some of the iron, steel, and bronze in the museums. Only the tools and weapons that are useful as is will be left.

If anyone were to help him, he'd probably be a prick about it, but still appreciate it nonetheless.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Dean really, really wants to facepalm. Because honestly, provoking the nine foot tall werewolf with pointy teeth and an axe? That's real smart. While Dean enjoys a good ribbing, there is no way in Hell he'd ever go against those odds. Hey, he might be 6'1, but that doesn't mean anything about something three feet taller than him.

"Did I not say fucking knock it off?" Dean says loudly, aiming that mostly at Sawyer. "Jesus Christ, you'd think you'd learn not to pick fights with a giant-ass wolf. That's common sense, Blondie."

Dean looks up at Bella. "And you, are you listening to me? Hey, eyes down here, woman." A pause, to make sure she's paying attention. "See, Blondie over here is an instigator. He's gonna keep calling you that word to get a rise outta you. So ignore him, alright?"

Dean's starting to get pissed off. He hates being the mediator.

"Instigator?" The new word distracts Bella. That helps. "He does not look like one," she says, eyeing Sawyer critically before looking back to Dean with head tilted a little in confusion. "No scales. Teeth too small. Not green." Clearly, she thinks he means "alligator".

Sawyer just shook his head and downed more bourbon. "Are you seriously tryin' to talk sense to a canine?" he mocked.

"... Not alligator. Instigator. Means he likes the irritate people for fun." Dean says, rubbing at his forehead. "Would you mind shrinking back down?"

He ignores Sawyer, because really, his main goal is to not get mauled.

Dean probably has nothing to worry about, Sawyer's the one in the lead for Most Likely To Have His Limbs Removed By The Werewolf.

"Instigator. Not alligator. I will remember."

At least the original spike of rage has worn off. Bella shrinks back down again to lupus form, politely. "You," she tells Sawyer, "Are not worth my time. If you were Garou I could fight you for rank to put you in your place but you are not." She looks over them both calmly. It's impossible to tell that a couple minutes ago she was ready to rip off heads. "I will be going hunting now. Goodbye." She picks up the axe in her teeth and turns to leave for the Sensoriums. She almost seems smug.

"Hmmmph...Well, I guess that means she ain't gonna be helpin'," Sawyer commented--loudly--as he watched Bella start to leave. He then handed the bottle over to Dean and reached into his pocket for a pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter.

Dean gives up, at that point, takes the bottle and takes a long swig. This is not his job, breaking up fights.

"Guess not." He monotones.

This Old Basilica [Rated R for Cussing]

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