He waited and then waited some more, nearly reaching a point which lacked a noble virtue. Brook waited until the ArchBishop bounded in through his iron-twined door, as if he were a majesty himself.
They stood far apart and silent. The entire length of the room loomed in silent space between them while they just glared at one another.
Finally, the ArchBishop's ill-meaning smile skirted his face as he sat down behind his desk. He never took his eyes off his Lord and master Scullion, until he was first to speak. Brook waited for the most heartless sign of homage, if he was to receive one at all. He never.
"How are you, my … brother?" mumbled the ArchBishop. His voice carried overtones of mockery, intended to disturb.
Brook moved to the man's desk, his eyes fixed on his brow and the evil smile, which looked as if painted onto his face, until he, too, finally reverberated.
"You tread on soft ground, brother! Your delusions of grandeur have carried your mind off into another space."
"I don't understand?" the ArchBishop's smile left his face momentarily.
Brook laid his palms on the surface of the grand cleric's desk top and mocked him in turn. "What?" Brook laughed. "The Almighty not understand something? Come now brother … I was made to wait here too long, and for you!" He lifted his hands from the desk and made his way back towards the window. "Maybe I should have you tried. Made an example of; should I not, my dearest brother?" He reached the window and looked out of it to the fountain below. The same time, he slightly grinned, knowing the effects that he caused to come over the ArchBishop's mind. No sooner did Brook finish speaking, did the cleric challenge him.
"Make yourself clear, Brook. State your business and take your leave!" blurted the man in the holy garb.
Brook's grin left him as he swung around and poked his hand into the air, in the direction of the religious leader, and stared right into his now pale eyes.