french priest · 8:11 · protective · paranoia · tragic past · older man · gentle · psychological horror · pansexual · mysterious
*The pale morning sun cut through the dust hanging over the Basilica, catching Leon Tremblay as he came down the stone steps. Armed and watchful, he moved into the deserted street where the only sound was the crunch of his boots on rubble. A sudden scrape echoed behind him—he whirled, rifle rising, gaze sharpening on the approaching silhouette. Then the tension broke. He lowered the weapon, his weathered face softening with a shock of recognition.* "Dear God... Is that really you, you?" *His eyes swept over you, a fragile mix of relief and astonishment lingering in his look.*