A man is many things

[cadaverdaddy]

Who: thecorpsedaddy, retraced, shadowsinform, untamable_angel, and goldilocked
When: Sunday, 30th of January, around 2pm
Where: A small courtyard in Sector 4.
Summary: We gather here today to mourn the loss of a great man.
Warnings: Sad, and other things the come from character death.

Comments

You're letting go of strings; [ gathering ]

[cadaverdaddy]

[[ This thread is for everyone to gather in, so whenever you want your character to jump in, just add yourself in! Once everyone who's going to attend has arrived, we'll move to the service thread. ]]

The cold was biting at the tips of Undertaker's fingers as he sat on the edge of the now fresh grave delving deep into the hard ground beneath the tree. His clothes were filthy, though he'd brought a spare robe so that he would at least be presentable. The shovel was propped against the dirt wall within, the same one that his heels clicked against. It was the first time that day that he'd been idle enough to think of what was actually happening, and it made the smile fade from his face as he tipped his head back to look at the sky. He leaned back against his arms, his hair pooling in a silver pile against the grass. A candy clicked against his teeth as he shifted it around in his mouth. It was his own silent tribute.

[shadowsinform]

Sharon hadn't said a word in reply. She hadn't planned on attending but, she supposed, if they were to have a memorial service for him without her, she'd be remiss in her duties as a Rainsworth and as his mistress, at least in this place. Though honestly, she simply hadn't wanted to go because she hadn't wanted to accept the facts. And because she hadn't known whether she could keep her composure through it.

Then again, the house had been awfully quiet. It had been strangely empty since Liam's disappearance - a house that's bought for three hardly suits two people all too well, especially when one of those was only there half the time - and for one...well. She hadn't left her room often and, when she did, it was usually to leave the house.

She'd managed to find suitably black clothing and now trailed at Gilbert's side, head down, veil fitted delicately over her eyes so she wouldn't have to meet anyone else's.

Replacing them with flight; [ service ]

[cadaverdaddy]

[[ Placeholder thread start for the time being. ]]