Merchandise!

Trained for this moment and reinforced by faith he feels no pain, all of his actions made with the same cold attitude. Anyone with perception of 5 or higher can see a faint aura around him. Trick of the mind or a divine intervention?

Remus lay unresponsive on the floor; enshrouded in a cloud of psychoactive gas, his trusty oversized cross laying besides him as always. In spite of his condition, some semblance of a sentence managed to slur its way out of his unconscious lips.

"...Goddamnit, gotta get back to the fuggin' job-"

Still fully unconscious, one hand reached over in a slow and practised movement that had by now reached some sort of muscle memory: hefting up the large cross and slapping himself harshly across the side of the face with the enormous thing.
Bringing him back to the land of the living.

Hardened by the heinous happenings in his recent jobs, Frank's froze up emotionally. Detachment's allowed for him to power through stress, he now somehow manages to thrive even in the most hopeless of shitshows.

As a Candyman, one must be like all candies. And in the world of candy, no sweet is tougher than a Jawbreaker. It lasts for hours. Bismarck has learned to carry the mindset of one, and now resists his pain just the same as a Jawbreaker lasts in the mouth for hours. His gob-- or rather, his self-- cannot be stopped (Ha!). An autopsy or similar investigation reveals that his pastry brain has chunks of jawbreaker strewn about in it; a sort of cake-candy mixture. His skin, too, has tiny pieces of red, blue, and yellow color that are typically seen in jawbreakers.

Through patience, mental resolve, and a lot of prayer Robert feels no pain. His mind is clear from distracting thoughts allowing him to focus on his goals. The radiance in his mind fears the dark and so does he. Through mind and steel he will forge his path to the radiance.

The mobster's been through tougher scrapes than this. A few cuts and bruises won't stop them.