George kept walking. He was no longer shocked by what the man said, but he still wanted to drop by the police station for protection, just in case.

Anthony was really just about to take his knife and stab the bastard, but he decided against it. He wanted to curl up somewhere and cry more than he wanted to be hanged for murder. "Go to hell, asshole!" He shouted loud enough that his voice cracked and his throat felt raw for a few moments. And then he went right back to sobbing.

George walked on and entered the police station.

Wesley had a pile of paper work he had to finish as he had been keeping himself really busy. His head rose as he saw someone enter. He looked the man over, identifying him as being with the church immediately. Flashing a welcoming smile, he stood and walked to greet him. "Hello, I'm Constable Roberts. How may I help you?"

Anthony had followed the man for a little bit before eventually just giving in and letting him go his own way. He sat down on the street and just started sobbing into his hands.

"Oh..." George was confused for a moment. He had expected that wimp, Crane, whom he remembered from when he was parish priest here before. He quickly recovered and forced a smile. "Good evening, sir. George Kemble. I'm afraid I've been stalked by a drunk fellow and I feel most unsafe." That was an exaggeration, but he'd get that twit in trouble, alright.

Wesley arched his brow and peered behind this Father Kemble but saw no one directly behind him. He looked back to his face and nodded. "Well then, how about I step out with you? I need to stretch my legs. It's people like this drunkard who are ruining Whitby and I intend to set things right one by one. If I see him, I will handle it." He stood and gestured to the door to let Kemble lead the way. "I'll make sure you get where you're going in case he is hiding."

Oh what a welcome change indeed! An ordered society was the first step towards virtue. "Well, sir, I am glad to hear it!" he said. "I dare say, this town is full of vice, and of vice breeding vice, and I am glad Whitby finally has a constable who can handle it!" He stepped outside and looked around for the sobbing drunk.

Wesley smiled as he followed him out and glanced around to see if anyone was going to bother them, but didn't see anyone who appeared dangerous or would be a problem. "Don't be too harsh on Crane. He means well, and would do fantastic in a smaller, more peaceful place. He just doesn't have the strength or force to be able to stop what's already been thriving here since before he came along."

"I wouldn't be able to judge how the town was before he came along. I was only here for a year. But I will say it was quite dreadful. Can't go anywhere without making sure a hundred time that you're not being pickpocketed." He looked around. "Now where did that coward go?"