Andrei was quite a brave member of the New Crusaders. He pushed the other brothers and sisters to voice themselves in the darkest of spots, insisting that their love and guidance was needed there most of all. That was why they had set up a tent at the film festival. That was why the handsome Elder Priest often walked through the more slummy regions of town. That was why he was currently traipsing through MacArthur Park --a known area for drugs and violence-- looking for troubled individuals whom he could help.
Little did he know that he would have stumbled across his own Father. (Not that he would've ever recognized him as such.)
Despite the stifling heat wave, Andrei was dressed in all black --black pants, black shirt, black shoes. Nice brands, but not those that he would've worn as a professional football player. He wanted to be a good model for his worshipers.. not cause envy in their hearts. His thick, blonde locks were pulled back from his face in a neat ponytail, and he, too, was carrying a cup of coffee. His cerulean orbs glanced around the park as he walked, his tall, muscled form making him quite the formidable visage.
He watched the disheveled man rise from the bench and felt drawn toward him, immediately assuming that the One True God was pushing him to minister to the other. He fell into step beside him and smiled. "Good morning," he offered. "How are you today?"