you be the pages & I'll be the lines; you be the cover & I'll be the spine
Who: thecorpsedaddy & break_xerxes
When: Evening of 18th of January; around 7pm.
Where: Undertaker's home in Sector 4.
Summary: After days of deliberation, there's really no other way to rectify this situation, is there?
Warnings: Morbidity, Sob, & Character death.
The past two days had been spent tending to a man who with smiles and giggles and flitting of words was not so much different than those who occupied the good undertaker's basement. The couch had been where the clown had been settled, but more often than not, he had not remained there despite being ill and uneasy with his surroundings. Many a time, Undertaker had to look up from his work to the door at the top of the stairs when it was opened by another hand. The few times that he would lay on the covers of his bed for an hour's rest, he found himself accompanied, a company that stayed regardless of when he himself restlessly left. Perhaps it was the knowledge of the impending act that drew the little Pierrot to seek out some sort of company in the silent and lonely hours of the night. Having another body beside him was something that unsettled Undertaker in strange ways. A man who was used to being alone could share a home or even a room, but to feel the weight shift him out of his own light slumber made questions babble through his mind like water over river stones. However, nothing had ever been asked. No, even if neither of them closed their eyes to rest, he was content to silently watch the rise and fall of shoulders that did not belong to him, to watch the shifts that happened.
The sun had set on the second day of this probationary time. Undertaker had suggested it be taken just to avoid any sense of regret once things were finished. There was a heavy sense of foreboding sitting in his chest as he clears the table from their small dinner. However, even as he strode past the figure, he could feel the darkness pulling at him. He'd seen the level of suffering that Break endured silently, and he understood the need for escape, especially in this world where there was always the chance to return. It only eased his feelings slightly, as he was unaccustomed to having them at all. A deep breath was taken, rattling out of his ribs as a laughter that was tinged with a hysterical disposition. His mind was blurring his thoughts together in ways that left him unable to focus on much of anything at all. A dilemma he had never found himself in previous to now.
No, if Break beckoned him to end this most intense of anguish, he would do so with the loyalty that he had come to hold for the frail and prancing ghost of a man. Never had he taken on another affinity when he had one already so strong toward the members of the house of Phantomhive. Never had it been to one person in particular so strong since Vincent himself. Another unsettling turn of events, one that made the circumstances to come leave a taste all the more unpleasant in his mouth.
When: Evening of 18th of January; around 7pm.
Where: Undertaker's home in Sector 4.
Summary: After days of deliberation, there's really no other way to rectify this situation, is there?
Warnings: Morbidity, Sob, & Character death.
The past two days had been spent tending to a man who with smiles and giggles and flitting of words was not so much different than those who occupied the good undertaker's basement. The couch had been where the clown had been settled, but more often than not, he had not remained there despite being ill and uneasy with his surroundings. Many a time, Undertaker had to look up from his work to the door at the top of the stairs when it was opened by another hand. The few times that he would lay on the covers of his bed for an hour's rest, he found himself accompanied, a company that stayed regardless of when he himself restlessly left. Perhaps it was the knowledge of the impending act that drew the little Pierrot to seek out some sort of company in the silent and lonely hours of the night. Having another body beside him was something that unsettled Undertaker in strange ways. A man who was used to being alone could share a home or even a room, but to feel the weight shift him out of his own light slumber made questions babble through his mind like water over river stones. However, nothing had ever been asked. No, even if neither of them closed their eyes to rest, he was content to silently watch the rise and fall of shoulders that did not belong to him, to watch the shifts that happened.
The sun had set on the second day of this probationary time. Undertaker had suggested it be taken just to avoid any sense of regret once things were finished. There was a heavy sense of foreboding sitting in his chest as he clears the table from their small dinner. However, even as he strode past the figure, he could feel the darkness pulling at him. He'd seen the level of suffering that Break endured silently, and he understood the need for escape, especially in this world where there was always the chance to return. It only eased his feelings slightly, as he was unaccustomed to having them at all. A deep breath was taken, rattling out of his ribs as a laughter that was tinged with a hysterical disposition. His mind was blurring his thoughts together in ways that left him unable to focus on much of anything at all. A dilemma he had never found himself in previous to now.
No, if Break beckoned him to end this most intense of anguish, he would do so with the loyalty that he had come to hold for the frail and prancing ghost of a man. Never had he taken on another affinity when he had one already so strong toward the members of the house of Phantomhive. Never had it been to one person in particular so strong since Vincent himself. Another unsettling turn of events, one that made the circumstances to come leave a taste all the more unpleasant in his mouth.