Jinkies!

[sequincy]

Who: Ishida Uryuu, cadaverdaddy & gotsomebadnoose.
When: TBA
Where: Taker's creepy house/mortuary/dead person workshop
Summary: Uryuu goes sneakin' so Taker comes creepin' and Lee uh... is... mope-eepin'.
Warnings: dead things probably
--

Comments

[cadaverdaddy]

[The Undertaker was beneath the ground, in the cool and comforting dampness of his basement, surrounded with the scents and silence of his work. Bodies prepared and casketed were in waiting beside him, ready to be escorted out of the shop and into the back of his funeral coach. In proper Victorian style, few (if any) funerals took place inside his mortuary. More often than not they were gravesides, the residents wishing to put the body in the ground as quickly as possible to prevent possible darkness contamination. The Undertaker's handmade, darkness-proofed caskets and his formal, old-fashion style that sent many careening back nearly two hundred years were his selling points. Many people were willing to overlook his strangeness in exchange.

A tickle of a unique soul shivers up his spine as he puts a final tug into the suture holding a young man's hollow chest cavity closed. He'd had a horrible bout of liver cancer, and the organ was horrible deformed. And so he'd kept it, and put it among the others in his collection of fleeting interests, on the shelf nearby. Laying down needle and thread, and passing fingers comforting over the gentlemen's head, with a quiet 'one moment, I won't keep you waiting long', he ascends.

Undertaker is at the door before Ishida gathers himself enough to knock, the doorknob turning in the grip of spidery fingers. Opening before the young man, that ever present grin widens and brightens at the sight of his guest. Green eyes sparkle, nearly humming in their sockets at the pulsating energy inside this one. It's exhilarating, arousing even. His voice comes on bated breath, almost a sigh.]

How may I help you?

[sequincy]

[Not him.

It's the only coherent thought in Uryuu's head for several moments. Eccentric - mortuary - Victorian - he should have known. How did he overlook the obvious clues? Of course it would be the crazy, bright-eyed reaper, replete with twitching, grasping hands and his maddeningly long hair. Who else would be so eager to work so closely with death? Idiot.]

I'm - only here to make an inquiry. [he forces the words despite the heavy urge to turn on his heel and leave the way he'd come. It would be shameful to abandon the investigation out of distaste for the Undertaker (or more specifically, his unique incomprehension of personal space), but Uryuu won't deny that it's tempting.] It won't take long.

[cadaverdaddy]

[Even through the curtain of his silver bangs, he is, indeed, bright-eyed as any at his guest. Surely there's no way he could not be excited. And his excitement is tangible, he knows so. It must be what fosters whatever feelings restrain the other in his own enjoyment (assuming he would feel such in this situation). A click of his heel, and the Undertaker retreats inside the door, before opening it wide for Ishida to enter. Sweeping a hand to urge the youth into the house, his grin stretches wider. Giggles fester in his throat as he answers,]

Do come inside, good sir~ There is no need to rush, I have all the time in the world. [His words are nearly sung, smooth and cool as the cadaveric flesh. This young man is more attune to the supernatural, that Undertaker has deduced through their prior conversation. There has to be more to this visit than an inquiry, but the game only proves to deepen his mirth.]

[sequincy]

I don't doubt it. [just this side of bitter, but he swallows it and steps inside. Nothing's changed, he reminds himself. The lie will still work and there's still something to investigate.

He steps inside, slipping off his white gloves and tugging the white scarf around his neck loose. He almost unzips his blue wool coat, but upon moving further into the room, he thinks better of it. Is the heat even on? It's not much better in here than it was outside...]

I didn't realize you had a business here. Do you own the home? [looking around, idly wandering the parlor. He's getting a feel for the place, even if he's not quite feeling it out yet. Patience.]

[cadaverdaddy]

[The dry remark earns a peal of laughter as the door is swept closed behind the young man as quickly as it had opened. Curious, wanting fingers lace among themselves to keep from chasing away his guest. A rare restraint, rationalized only by the promise of something more interesting if patience holds out.] I am an undertaker, my friend, my life is my work. It is no different here than it was in my world.

[Long steps carry the man effortless passed Ishida and into the parlor. If there isn't enough proof of Undertaker's eccentricies in his mannerisms, his home solidifies the claim. Most everything is covered in a layer of dust, save for places often tread. Furniture clearly bought second hand and out of date clutter the parlor, the walls hidden behind rows of bookshelves. Every inch of space on those shelves is taken up by something, be it books or papers or knick knacks or jaws holding preserved organs or surgical utensils. Half finished caskets in various stages of their crafting lay on the floor and lean against what little open wall space is available. Piles of burnt orange and brown spotted sheets collect off in one corner. Ishida had stumbled upon the tea party in the cemetery: Undertaker's personal touch that had been on display there is abound within the house. Long fingers offer an armchair to his visitor with an accompanying giggle.]

Please, do take a seat. I shall make tea. [And he's gone from the room, leaving Ishida alone in silence.]

[gotsomebadnoose]

[Someone else accompanied him in the silence... A quiet blue glow illuminating from the long curtains by the window where Lee had stationed himself to watch the outside world pass him by. It was a good way to pass time. Left him to his thoughts. People watching became one of his more favorite pastimes, closely followed by observing the Undertaker while he worked. Hassling visitors was a close third. Lee looks in the direction were Taker disappeared to.]

Yeah, it's his.

[Lee drifts from the window, looking Ishida over.]

People don't come by often. Well, not ALIVE ones...

[sequincy]

[Ugh. What a creepy room. Uryuu stands awkwardly in the middle of it, as if afraid that if he gets too close to some bottled pancreas or skull they'll fly off the shelf at him. (And having attended this Mad Hatter's tea party, he doesn't think this is an irrational fear.) He supposes he should be glad there aren't just bodies strewn about.

...But when Undertaker leaves the room, the opportunity to investigate is too perfect. He'll only have a short time, so he'll have to be quick in locating the general direction of the disturbance before -

Oh. There's a spirit.]

Ah - [Uryuu stills suddenly, guiltily.] Hello. I didn't... see you.

[was he a plus? He had to be. But where was his chain? Why would it be lingering here of all places? Usually they returned to the person or place most significant to them in life, the thing anchoring them to the world of the living...

Uryuu realizes he's staring. He sits in the armchair. Awkwardly.]

[gotsomebadnoose]

[but there was something that tethered him. A very painful reminder wrapped tightly around his neck. The noose itched and choked, blue like his skin and suspended behind him. The trailing rope disappearing through the floor boards.

Lee stands before Uryuu, blue eyes glazing over him, watching him while he lowers himself into the chair. A stab of jealousy. This guy was still alive.]

It's okay. You're not the first. I'm Lee Falun. I'm...kind of like the resident ghost...

[sequincy]

[he finally notices the noose, his eyes trailing down to where it slips into the floorboard. It isn't the sort of chain he's use to seeing on pluses, but it's a tether, isn't it? He wonders where it goes, and why. ...There must be a basement...

He looks back up, and resolves to investigate the home's lower levels later.] I'm Ishida Uryuu. I'm, ah - researching for future funerals. Maybe.

[awkward. He clears his throat.]

...Do you mind if I ask you some things? I'm sure you're used to questions, but I deal with spirits back home. [it's not entirely a lie; Uryuu doesn't interfere with pluses specifically, but he does destroy them if they turn into Hollows. And he can see them; that has to count for something.] Can people normally see you?