©®™ Lt. Commander Richie
Disclaimer:Sunao Yoshida owns Trinity Blood. You-know-what is property of Blizzard. The reason I'm writing this is property of my math teacher.
"His Holiness has been in there for three days." Father William Walter Wordsworth blinked several times in surprise, taking his pipe from his mouth to say something, then thinking better of it. He stared at Abel for a while, finally arching one eyebrow.
"Are you sure?" The professor asked, and a Tres gave a silent nod.
"Affirmative. His Holiness Pope Alessandro XVIII has confined himself to his quarters for the past seventy-two hours and thirty-three minutes. He has revealed himself twice at meals, given the Sunday Mass, and promptly gone straight back to his quarters. It is currently said that he is ill with a strain of Influenza." The android said, shuffling to a better footing before continuing. "However, he has refused to be examined by any of the on-site physicians."
The few gathered priests of the AX division were silent, Abel flopping down into a chair with a loud sigh and putting a hand to his face.
"Well..." The silver-haired priest began, dragging his hand down his face and pulling his eyelids down in the process, "maybe he's sneaking out to see a secret girlfriend or something!"
Both William and Tres stared at Abel as though he had just confessed he was really a rabbit on steroids.
"You're a hopeless romantic, aren't you Abel?" William finally asked, taking his pipe from his mouth and dumping the ashes from it into an ashtray. The other priest nodded vigorously, smiling.
"Father Abel Nightroad." Abel's attention snapped to Tres, the brunette android continuing in his flat voice. "Your theory has no proof. Furthermore, His Holiness Pope Alessandro XVIII has not left his quarters by any means available, which includes climbing down the trellis outside his balcony or climbing through the ventilation shafts."
"Party pooper." Abel pouted, slumping down in his chair.
"Search identifies no definition for that term." The android replied, and William rolled his eyes as he puffed away at his pipe.
"He means that you're spoiling his fun." The professor clarified, tapping his pipe on his palm a few times before placing it back in his mouth and exhaling a mouthful of smoke. Tres opened his mouth, wanting further clarification, but William held a hand up. "And don't ask for another explanation."
"Your Holiness?" Several hours later, the Pope had yet to come out of his quarters. The concerned party had grown in size, now including Father Havel, Sisters Ester, Noelle and Kate, Brother Petros and Father Leon. Leon had only tagged along because Ester had gone, though, so he hardly counted. Abel knocked on the door once again, and finally a steady creak came as the teenage Alessandro XVIII peered out into the hall. He had a certain amount of gauntness about his features, dark circles under his eyes.
"Yes?" The teen asked, his voice croaky with disuse and possible sickness.
"Are you alright? We're all worried!" Ester said, peering out from behind Abel and William. Alessandro's eyes got wide as he realized just how many people were outside his door, and he gave a small sound of distress and tried to close the door. However, Brother Petro's armored foot managed to be in the way.
"Your Holiness, you need to spend some time in the sunlight!" The teal-haired Bureau Director of the Inquisition insisted, and the young Pope's voice took an edge that nobody in the small group had heard before.
"I will do as I choose, Brother Petros. Remove your foot before I decide to do something to you you may not like very much." In surprise, the Brother removed his armored foot and the teenaged Pope's door slammed shut.
"That was odd." Noelle finally said, crossing her arms and arching one eyebrow.
"Scans show an active connection to the Pre-Armageddon World Wide Web. While this is uncommon, it is not unheard of. Sister Kate Scott." Tres turned to the holographic nun floating by his side, and she looked up in mild surprise.
"Yes?" She asked, already not liking what might come of this.
"Requesting that you patch into His Holiness Pope Alessandro XVIII's connection to the World Wide Web and ascertain what exactly it is that he is doing." At this, Leon grinned and Petros looked rather affronted.
"That's an invasion of His Holiness' privacy!"
"Best idea you've had since I've known you, Gunslinger."
"Your Holiness Pope Alessandro XVIII." Alessandro jumped in surprise at the voice behind him, whirling around in his swivel chair and leaning back over his computer monitor. Father Tres Iquis stood behind him, looking down at the teen over his nose.
"Y-yes?" The Pope asked, afraid of what might end up happening. Unceremoniously, the android held out the teen's Papal vestments and hat.
"You will remove yourself from your computer terminal and clothe yourself, then you will attend dinner tonight as you should." Grumbling, Alessandro stood and jammed his hat on his head before sitting back down and turning back to his computer. Tres grabbed his arm and hauled him back out of the chair, sending it spinning as the android shoved the teen's robes into his arms and let go of him. Once again the teen was difficult, putting his robes on before grabbing his chair and sitting back down.
"Can you please leave, Father?" Alessandro asked, and Tres mechanically shook his head.
"Negative. I was given orders to get you to dress, then, as Cardinal Caterina Sforsa has put it, 'get his ass off World of Warcraft and down to the dining hall before I go up there myself'."
The Pope blanched, a nasty-looking tic developing in his left eye.
Needless to say, the offending game was turned off, the Pope's modem yanked and the teenager went to dinner.
The other day I asked my math teacher what the world would be like if a thirteen-year-old were Pope, and his response was 'There'd be a lot more World of Warcraft'. As such, this was born.