[IC][Threshold] The Funeral of Sully - Councilor of Justice
Apr 26, 2020 16:47:48 GMT 10
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Post by Laurnath on Apr 26, 2020 16:47:48 GMT 10
In pre-preparation, Sir Taevin D'lesco brings a recently repaired suit of Mithril mail to the Cassanite Temple, passing it to Priestess Elora Robinson. She walks confidently through the waiting wings, filled with those hesitantly perched. Valerian Steele, Lenara Tosen, Kavar Swiftblade, Councilor Lumina, Alexandra Markova and many others, leaning on the pillars or sitting on hard church pews.
Though the church has never been so full and so alive, it had also never been so dead and bereft. Even if there is brief levity and attempted jokes, there is an aura of the death of hope. Sorrow is only yards away.
Often solemnly staring at their hands, thinking about the day that it all went wrong. What they could have done differently.
Even then earlier that day, a carriage arrived to take Miss Annie Miller away. No longer wearing her Cassanite robes - No longer of the order. She left her Initiate's weapons on an altar in the temple after making a stuttering, stammering apology to anyone who would listen. Her light too is gone. Her shine is tarnished. Defeated. She said she has prayed for what she would have done differently.
The answer is nothing.
Sometimes we just lose and there is no silver lining.
Inside the Infirmary, the candles are low. Verity has personally dressed Sully in his long loved and pride and joy - His mithril armor. Though his arms folded in his usual pose. In a way his pale slightly shimmering skin is as alive in death as it was in life. It is almost as if he is simply ignoring Verity for fun. Though at the very edges of his gauntlets and near his temples are very dark runes in a language that very few would recognise. To the initiated it would appear that Verity has drawn over most of the Councilor of Justice with her own blood - that ruins the illusion somewhat.
While she will not speak to anyone else, she talks quietly to him in their own way.
In some fashion, it appears to them that she has gotten a reply. Her cadence changes often, though the words aren't understandable. Many of the Cassanites fear she has gone mad. If they get too close, she immediately stops. No matter how quiet the step, she can feel the intrusion on their privacy.
A lock of his hair is braided with bright silver cord, it looks like leather, but shines like the purest silver. Her hair charms of roses and thorns are interwoven in it. It appears she has taken off all artifice she ever owned and has bequeathed it to him. Sully wears his original hood which envelopes his dark hair that is shiny and recently brushed. Even with it's patches and worn spots, tiny bite marks from Blackpaw, and a smudge of Verity's lip paint - It has been returned in the way it was. His fur cloak is nestled beneath him in the open coffin, softly cleaned and fluffed up like a royal cape around his broad shoulders.
The casket is filled with heavily scented roses from the Valerias temple in Verge. A smell that is distinctive and synonymous with the worshipers, though inter dispersed with branches of the fragrant oak trees in the Black woods. There are nestled in there strange objects that seem to make sense only to her. Satin covered buttons, a hair ribbon, a key, a smoothed rock that looks like a heart.
Only after all her work does she then allow the Rangers, including Kaleyc Niall to carry Sully's casket to the Altar of the church for all to pay their final respects.
During this time Verity sits behind the altar, with her back against it. All but hidden from view.
A wraith of black fabric, silken hoods and gloved hands. She does not speak to anyone.
Vela calmly tells people that there will also be a burial in the Threshold Cemetery. Though her composure is shaken as she seems unsure of exactly when, awkwardly glancing down at Verity often.
Lumina, Valerian and others hover nearby. They seem concerned but unsure of what exactly to do. For all the world it looks like they are merely watching the coffin and Sully - for the last time.
Note:
Replies to this thread should be done in an in character fashion. Replying to a part, or the whole situation. Please resist from adding in anything that is in any way divisive or combative to the situation, no actions can be now taken about this. It is purely a place to give character reactions and pay respects, to show your own characterisation of the response to this.
Though the church has never been so full and so alive, it had also never been so dead and bereft. Even if there is brief levity and attempted jokes, there is an aura of the death of hope. Sorrow is only yards away.
Often solemnly staring at their hands, thinking about the day that it all went wrong. What they could have done differently.
Even then earlier that day, a carriage arrived to take Miss Annie Miller away. No longer wearing her Cassanite robes - No longer of the order. She left her Initiate's weapons on an altar in the temple after making a stuttering, stammering apology to anyone who would listen. Her light too is gone. Her shine is tarnished. Defeated. She said she has prayed for what she would have done differently.
The answer is nothing.
Sometimes we just lose and there is no silver lining.
Inside the Infirmary, the candles are low. Verity has personally dressed Sully in his long loved and pride and joy - His mithril armor. Though his arms folded in his usual pose. In a way his pale slightly shimmering skin is as alive in death as it was in life. It is almost as if he is simply ignoring Verity for fun. Though at the very edges of his gauntlets and near his temples are very dark runes in a language that very few would recognise. To the initiated it would appear that Verity has drawn over most of the Councilor of Justice with her own blood - that ruins the illusion somewhat.
While she will not speak to anyone else, she talks quietly to him in their own way.
In some fashion, it appears to them that she has gotten a reply. Her cadence changes often, though the words aren't understandable. Many of the Cassanites fear she has gone mad. If they get too close, she immediately stops. No matter how quiet the step, she can feel the intrusion on their privacy.
A lock of his hair is braided with bright silver cord, it looks like leather, but shines like the purest silver. Her hair charms of roses and thorns are interwoven in it. It appears she has taken off all artifice she ever owned and has bequeathed it to him. Sully wears his original hood which envelopes his dark hair that is shiny and recently brushed. Even with it's patches and worn spots, tiny bite marks from Blackpaw, and a smudge of Verity's lip paint - It has been returned in the way it was. His fur cloak is nestled beneath him in the open coffin, softly cleaned and fluffed up like a royal cape around his broad shoulders.
The casket is filled with heavily scented roses from the Valerias temple in Verge. A smell that is distinctive and synonymous with the worshipers, though inter dispersed with branches of the fragrant oak trees in the Black woods. There are nestled in there strange objects that seem to make sense only to her. Satin covered buttons, a hair ribbon, a key, a smoothed rock that looks like a heart.
Only after all her work does she then allow the Rangers, including Kaleyc Niall to carry Sully's casket to the Altar of the church for all to pay their final respects.
During this time Verity sits behind the altar, with her back against it. All but hidden from view.
A wraith of black fabric, silken hoods and gloved hands. She does not speak to anyone.
Vela calmly tells people that there will also be a burial in the Threshold Cemetery. Though her composure is shaken as she seems unsure of exactly when, awkwardly glancing down at Verity often.
Lumina, Valerian and others hover nearby. They seem concerned but unsure of what exactly to do. For all the world it looks like they are merely watching the coffin and Sully - for the last time.
Note:
Replies to this thread should be done in an in character fashion. Replying to a part, or the whole situation. Please resist from adding in anything that is in any way divisive or combative to the situation, no actions can be now taken about this. It is purely a place to give character reactions and pay respects, to show your own characterisation of the response to this.
