action → voice;
[To be honest, the Undertaker thought for certain that his basement, his beloved work, would be undisturbed during his trip back home. But upon his return, having once again plummeted to the ground in the baseball diamond at the break of morning, sounding his return with the cry of the siren. Once his quick return landed him at the familiar stoop of his home on this island, he had entered soundlessly. Merely a breath, the drawing gasp of the final plague as it passes in the midnight quiet through the homes of Egypt. But he doesn't linger on the ground floor. A pass down the stairs and through the cracked door into him workspace. Lee is his first concern.
When his boot heel clicks on the concrete floor, there's a laughter that overcomes him. His work is out of place. Someone has been down here, moving his things, using his tools. Toying with his delicate masterpieces. There's nothing obviously damaged, nothing broken but the reaper takes himself into the little divided space of the basement where his dear Lee's body is at rest. He fears the worst; to find the man's corpse missing or dismembered would only rain the undertaker's displeasure upon the island until it's found or reassembled. But he's there, right where he was left. A sigh of relief, and his fingers seek out the placid, chilled cheek, brushing his thumb along it tenderly.
His hand reaches for the NV that's returned to the pocket of his tunic, turning his attentions to the network. Laughter rings through the microphone first, before his crackling voice follows.]
Hello again, my dear Siren's Port. haaaahahahaaaa It seems that I have left you again~ or rather returned from another such absence. Tell me heeeeeheheee what has changed~? What might the date be today?
My dear Earl, and of course young sir Gilbert, I do hope you're both present and well. To have missed your final breaths in this world would leave me quite disappointed aaaaaahahahaaaa! Veser, if you are here, I do hope that you have taken care of Lee and the house.
[A pause for a fit of giggles, sharp inhales interspersed at his own joke. From the state of his basement, Veser has at least attempted to take care of things. With obvious results. Finally, he speaks again, sighing into the NV.]
Lee, if you are here- I am home.
When his boot heel clicks on the concrete floor, there's a laughter that overcomes him. His work is out of place. Someone has been down here, moving his things, using his tools. Toying with his delicate masterpieces. There's nothing obviously damaged, nothing broken but the reaper takes himself into the little divided space of the basement where his dear Lee's body is at rest. He fears the worst; to find the man's corpse missing or dismembered would only rain the undertaker's displeasure upon the island until it's found or reassembled. But he's there, right where he was left. A sigh of relief, and his fingers seek out the placid, chilled cheek, brushing his thumb along it tenderly.
His hand reaches for the NV that's returned to the pocket of his tunic, turning his attentions to the network. Laughter rings through the microphone first, before his crackling voice follows.]
Hello again, my dear Siren's Port. haaaahahahaaaa It seems that I have left you again~ or rather returned from another such absence. Tell me heeeeeheheee what has changed~? What might the date be today?
My dear Earl, and of course young sir Gilbert, I do hope you're both present and well. To have missed your final breaths in this world would leave me quite disappointed aaaaaahahahaaaa! Veser, if you are here, I do hope that you have taken care of Lee and the house.
[A pause for a fit of giggles, sharp inhales interspersed at his own joke. From the state of his basement, Veser has at least attempted to take care of things. With obvious results. Finally, he speaks again, sighing into the NV.]
Lee, if you are here- I am home.