[center][i][u]Paul Delacroix - Just go out and kill a few beasts. It's for your own good.[/u][/i][/center]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/7RNtZFH.png?2[/img][/center]

As the group moved on, something within Mister Delacroix demanded that he linger behind. Staring down at the gurgling and dying corpse-to-be of one of the hooded strangers, it took him a moment to properly process what he was seeing. With rapt curiosity, the young man tilted his head slightly as he stood and watched the cloaked man choke on his own fluids and die his slow horrible death. The rational part of his mind told him that what he was seeing was wrong. It should've shocked him. It should've disgusted him. He should be trying to save the man, right? A small part of him told himself that he should be reacting in a completely different way than how he was currently handling the situation. But, for some reason Paul was indifferent to the plight of the suffocating fool.

[i]"I've seen this before. In my past, I feel that I've witnessed death before. In a different time and a different place. Hmm. How interesting."[/i] he thought to himself.

Squatting down, Paul leaned in closer to examine the man but did not overstep his boundaries and inwardly refused to touch the asphyxiating future cadaver. Looking up at the beautiful pale woman, he filed away the bit of information that she was not one to be trifled with. What woman -or creature- had such strength and speed to rip the tongue from a person's mouth without anyone's notice? He would have to be sure not to anger her and get on her bad side. As he stood and casually followed after the departing group, Mister Delacroix looked over his shoulder as the body of the tongueless stranger violently shook out his final death throes. He would have to remember to say a little prayer later.  

[u][i][b]At the Chapel[/b][/i][/u]

Paul blinked when the fair lady mentioned to them all that they had all passed on. Allegedly, they had all died. Looking at his hands, he flexed his fingers. Rigor mortis hadn't set in, his digits moved fluidly and freely. Placing his index and middle finger against where his carotid artery would be on his neck, he felt what he thought to be his pulse. He didn't exactly feel cold either. So he wasn't a zombie, he felt very much normal and alive. Shrugging his shoulders, he figured that if he were truly dead he probably wouldn't be able to really tell anyways. Paul was in an odd state of just simple acceptance. Everything that was transpiring he was absorbing and taking in to be factual and true, taking them for their face value and choosing not to delve too deeply into questioning everything. This was the way things are going to be now. This is the natural order. It was a dangerous state of mind to be in, for sure. But, at the moment he didn't quite care. Instead, he was more interested in how the Lady Maria used a word of germanic origin and then uttered a phrase in Latin.

[i]"Hmm, does she have an understanding of multiple languages or is it some arcane gift of tongues. What did she say?...It would roughly translate into a 'gift for...Absolute'? She mentioned a being called The Absolute earlier, it must be this world's deity of some sort."[/i] Paul silently pondered to himself. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he eyed the symbol of the so-called 'Absolute.'

No, he didn't wonder how he had died.
Nor did he wonder why he ended up here and with such an interesting start.
Then again, how does one imagine the start of one's eternity in either Hell or Heaven?
He still couldn't say, even as he stood.
He was simply curious as to Lady Maria's knowledge of languages.

His eyes lowered from the symbol when a being Paul could only describe as a moving mass of rags and cloth, a tangible and corporeal phantom or specter. The entity screamed 'ancient, eldritch knowledge' to him. But even still, Paul couldn't be moved to pay close attention. Only really focusing on what he deemed to be the important parts. He was absolutely not going to kneel and pray to this 'Church of Absolute', and he wasn't quite pleased about somehow being forced into this dark, abysmal world. Just to be told that he was now a supposed 'Hunter' and that he was to be shoehorned into slaying these beastly creatures he has yet to lay eyes on. Half of him accepted the flow of events, the other half refused and silently retaliated against his current situation in small ways. He would play along for the most part, but not completely. Not yet. Though, the prospect of regaining the memories of his previous life and who he was indeed tempted him.

When the mobile bundle of dirty laundry left and returned bearing gifts, Paul cocked an eyebrow and came up to the laid out assortment when his turn had come. Hands still in his pocket, his eyes almost lazily scanned over the pile of random equipment and nothing really caught his attention. He was just about to turn and walk away, almost quietly declining any gift that a talking amalgamation of discarded articles of clothing could offer him when he stopped. At just the last second in the corners of his vision he saw something that alluringly beckoned to him. Softly and gently calling out to him in the sweetest of voice.  Turning back round, he walked to one side of the pile and saw a cane with a rosary and necklace draped over it. Laying next to it was an ornate and beautiful handgun. Kneeling on one knee, Paul removed a hand from its pocket and reached out to grasp at the draped rosary and necklace. Something tugged at a memory within the inner depths of his mind.

[i]"These...These belong to me. These are mine."[/i]
Squinting, Paul gingerly slipped the necklace over his head and around his neck.
Tucking the necklace into his shirt, he then wrapped the rosary around his left wrist.
Taking the cane in his left hand and firearm in his right, he looked at them both as he stood.

In an almost loving fashion, he warmly rubbed on the handle of the cane. It felt comfortable in his hands. It felt familiar. Leaning slightly against it, he couldn't help but smile a little. Something in the cane clicked and Paul nearly stumbled when the handle turned in place. Regaining his posture, he noticed that the handle seemed to come loose from the body of the cane. Frowning, he pulled at the cane and his eyes gleamed in awe as he stared at the long, thin blade that was revealed.

[i]"Huh. Well, this is new. But somehow....it still feels right."[/i]

Admiring the blade for a moment, Paul's smile grew a little bigger as he sheathed it and discovered that he could lock the cane sword back in place. Slightly leaning on his returned cane, Paul looked over the firearm he had in hand and scoffed. It wasn't hard to tell why he had made such a mocking noise at the pistol. Clearly written over his face, it was easy to tell that Mister Delacroix recognized the archaic origin of the gun. In that same expression, something was said that Mister Delacroix could possibly improve upon its design himself.

[i]"No ammunition, it seems. I'll probably have to acquire a kit of some sort for it. I wonder what this world's form of currency is. Iredele, right?"[/i]

Pointing the barrel of the gun downward, Paul resigned it to temporarily rest in between the waist of his trousers and his belt. He'd get a proper holster for it at a later time. For now, he had an intense desire to learn a little more of this world and explore it. Once he had a sufficient and basic working knowledge of this Iredele, he intended to get settled as soon as possible. Discover how to acquire money. Use said monies to secure lodging, food, and clothing. Once the basic needs are fulfilled and satisfied, he'd like to see more of these 'beasts' that he was supposed to be hunting. Paul would become a working cog of this machine for the time being, he would accept the way things are. It made things easier to cope with, after all. Turning to face the Lady Maria, he walked with his cane toward her intent on asking her a few simple questions. But, another gentleman had beaten him to the punch. He recognized the man to be 'Donny', the man who helped release him. Politely waiting his turn to speak, Paul peered over his shoulder to see a young man with a spear exit the chapel. Someone was a bit hasty, but had a similar idea to his. He wondered if the two of them would bump into each other later.