The Funeral ((Open))

[thomas_small]

It's been gently raining intermittently since yesterday, not oppressively, but just enough to make the air cool and soft. It's done very little to make the morning fog escape the coast, too, letting it just lull there in a half-sleep

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[ororo_munroe]

The rain doesn't intensify, but the skies darken briefly as Ororo touches down upon the wild cliffs of Cassidy Keep. She walks hesitantly to the gathering, unsure if Tom would have wanted her here - unsure if she should even be here- but proceeds forward anyway.

Her face is tired from lack of sleep, a symptom of the entire last month. And she can't help the alternating tinges of cold anger and numb bitterness in her thoughts. Nor the confusion as to why this is affecting her more than she'd ever thought possible. She walks across the grass until she glimpses the shock of pale skin and the gleaming darkness of wood framing the final resting place of Black Tom Cassidy.

You invited me for a visit, Thomas -is her stark thought.

You should have told me we were in the midsts of having our last.

[eamon_odonnell]

X-Men? Oh no. Not that he didn't appreciate Ororo's help years ago, but if this was some extension of Xavier's good graces it really wasn't the time. Not that he wants to start a fuss or anything. "Ye came for Xavier, lass?"

[ororo_munroe]

It takes a moment, but she remembers Eamon's face. So long ago, since her very first visit to the Keep. Practically a decade ago.

-"'Here's hoping the walls are still standing when I leave...'"

-"'Here's hoping the Keep's still standing at all when I leave... I should be getting back...'"

Unfathomable blue eyes lift to Eamon's worried ones.

"No. I am only representing myself here."

[eamon_odonnell]

"Right." If she says so, he'll believe her. "I'm sorry for doubtin' it. I wasn't aware ye'd been a friend of his."

[ororo_munroe]

"I wasn't quite aware of that myself all the time, Mr. O'Donnell. But Thomas and I came to a few understandings between the two of us over the past months." There's a glimmer of a sad smile, fleeting before it's gone.

She's supposed to be polite, she remembers. "How are you faring? Yourself, Theresa and Sean?"

[eamon_odonnell]

"I can't imagine what over. He wasn't always the agreeable sort." Casual conversation to fill the hole the subject left, of course.

"As well as can be expected. I haven't heard from Sean, and I suspect the gravity of the situation hasn't yet sunk in for Terry."

[ororo_munroe]

"Agreeable - never. Challenging - always. That..." she stops as realization slowly spreads acros her face, seeping into the coldness beneath her skin.

"I suppose that is why we were friends and enemies. We never did allow for much tolerance with one anothers delusions." And maybe that's why... Don't think it, Ororo.

"It must be so difficult for her," she murmurs. "To technically be the only Cassidy remaining."

[eamon_odonnell]

"Hm. He liked to hide them from us, for as long as he was aware of them. I don't suppose he was very open about them with you?"

"Aye." He nods sadly. "Though her mother's about. I can't think how difficult it must be to lose her father figures while trying to celebrate her mother's return, and both of the lads so soon."

[ororo_munroe]

"We became familiar with each other's secrets, more by necessity than choice, and shared the burden of keeping them. In regards to the latter, he was honorable in doing so

[eamon_odonnell]

"Hmm. Not to speak unkindly of the dead, but I'm a wee bit surprised he would be honorable about anything he could use. Though, I suppose, it's been a few years since we ever spoke in-depth. He might've had some life-changing event, I don't know." He follows her eyes, staring sadly at the man who had once been friend, enemy and partly a son all at once. Eamon never wanted to outlive any Cassidy.

He takes the statue. "Ah, the mogget? That's why he left her to you, I suppose?"

[ororo_munroe]

"The old villain was pragmatic and apparently still full of surprises," she says, eyes awash in complete emotion now. No tears to shed for him from Ororo, but something maybe greater. The laying down of secrets to rest for him and maybe his spirit would know that and be less tormented.

Maybe he would finally know some peace? She finds herself desperately wishing that will be so.

Her surprise is obvious. "Mogget? Thomas left Dee for me to take care of?"

[eamon_odonnell]

"I'd think so. If anything, he was never boring." He looks for her approval before resting the statue on the casket.

He nods. "Aye, the moggie. She was left to ye in the will. Ye haven't been contacted about it yet?"

[ororo_munroe]

"Communications aren't as reliable now, since New York has become the hotbed for civil war. That was where we last saw each other." And he'd looked haggard and she'd told him...

-"Be safe."

Her hand hesitantly reaches out, ghosting a touch upon the casket before one fingertip finally rests upon on the wood. Imprinting it with her loss, her thanks, and the confusing myriad of everything felt in between.

Her hand falls away as she assures softly, "Dee will have a good home with me. I've grown quite fond of the little sphinx."

[eamon_odonnell]

"The Civil War, I suppose? As if I didn't have enough to worry about for...well, just for Theresa now." He looks so resigned when he says that. All his prayers and best wishes every night may as well be curses for all the good they did Tom and Sean.

"So have we, but he willed it that you should have her. He also gave ye permission to any cutting from the garden."