Gabe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
auguris) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2012-09-22 04:24 pm
auguris) wrote in rainbowfic2012-09-22 04:24 pm
Bone Black 15, Dove Grey 10, Sulphur 13
Name: auguris
'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: The Funeral
Colors: Bone Black 15. Funeral, Dove Grey 10. Mourning is not forgetting... It is an undoing., Sulphur 13. Hellish
Supplies and Styles: Canvas, Stained Glass
Word Count: 660
Rating: R
Warnings: Brief description of a dead body.
Summary: Moira's funeral.
I. Mitchell
The priestess moved her mouth, uttering gibberish. Her lips opened and closed, a flash of pearl teeth, a slip of tongue, words and words and words. He heard behind him murmurs, sniffles, muffled crying, a chorus of mourning as coherent as the priestess.
If he shifted he could see his reflection in the glass case that held his mother's body. Flickering smudges of orange and red surrounded his reflection, flames from hundreds of candles. One of those flames belonged to him, set alight in tandem with Tam's own.
His eyes were dry, itchy.
Tam stood next to him, a statue. She might not even have breathed. His hand found hers and she squeezed, hard.
II. Kaija
Kaija stood in the back, eyes flitting left and right, taking in the too warm room too full of Emerites. She spotted another faithful, younger, just out of his apprenticeship. He made eye contact, smiled, then turned away. Smart to stay separated, but she would have welcomed intelligent company.
A woman settled beside her, tilting her hood enough for Kaija to see her face: Nieve Lac. "Why are you here?"
Kaija shifted. "As an impartial observer."
Lac stared straight ahead. At what was left of Pathing? The children? "Did you do it?"
Kaija pulled her hood lower. "Do you not mean we, sister?"
"That depends on your answer." Clipped, harsh, but pitched low.
Kaija eyed the wizards around them; none seemed to overhear, but that meant little. "This is not a good place to talk."
Lac met her gaze: power rushed behind her eyes, unshielded for the single moment it took for Kaija to see.
She took a steadying breath. "Master Dweven did not order it."
"That is not an answer," Lac muttered.
"It is the best answer I have." Kaija gently twined her arm with Lac's. "I am sorry this hurts you, sister."
Lac bowed her head before extracting herself and slipping away.
III. Canan
Canan Weccear stood to the side of the room, hands clasped behind her back. Her eyes swept the room, putting faces to names: Talles Sauvest, Ghost Seer, dedicated to the cause; Donat Vider, Ghost Seer, arrived early that morning, sworn to the Assembly; Paragon Ventufere, of course; Elijah Glower, healer, of little import; Nieve Lac, Ghost Seer, speaking with--
Hm.
Liyfendal had nerve showing her face here, Canan could give her that. Although an incredibly tempting target, Canan saw no way to take her down without causing a scene.
Irritating. Not a total loss, however; the Court would have questions for Lac.
She returned her gaze to the Pathing siblings; both warranted surveillance. Law enforcement was a noble occupation, but firestarters were often trouble. And if the younger took after his mother in any way, he would need to handled appropriately.
Canan did not let herself sigh. Funerals put her in a mood.
IV. Tamsin
She couldn't breath.
The body was clean and whole, dressed in tailored robes. The Formator had done a remarkable job; the woman in the glass case looked nothing like the torn up disaster Tam had seen in the morgue.
(The body required identification, and Lady drown her if she would let Mitchell do it.
Skull fractured, dented like a half-inflated beach ball. Collarbone shattered. Both arms broken in multiple places. Punctured--
Elijah pulled her away.)
"--preserved forever here, in our memories, in the Lady's arms--"
Pressure from all sides; she was underwater, losing air.
(Galfrede's office was too small. Tamsin paced, fury heavy in her chest.
How fast had the car been going? Were there any witnesses? Had the wards been tampered with? Who was the first responder? Was she wearing her seatbelt? Did she go through the windshield? How long did it take her to die?
Galfrede told her to go home.)
She couldn't move her head, the water was too thick. She couldn't see the body's face. She was drowning.
Mitchell grabbed her hand and she held on tight, her only lifeline.
auguris'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: The Funeral
Colors: Bone Black 15. Funeral, Dove Grey 10. Mourning is not forgetting... It is an undoing., Sulphur 13. Hellish
Supplies and Styles: Canvas, Stained Glass
Word Count: 660
Rating: R
Warnings: Brief description of a dead body.
Summary: Moira's funeral.
I. Mitchell
The priestess moved her mouth, uttering gibberish. Her lips opened and closed, a flash of pearl teeth, a slip of tongue, words and words and words. He heard behind him murmurs, sniffles, muffled crying, a chorus of mourning as coherent as the priestess.
If he shifted he could see his reflection in the glass case that held his mother's body. Flickering smudges of orange and red surrounded his reflection, flames from hundreds of candles. One of those flames belonged to him, set alight in tandem with Tam's own.
His eyes were dry, itchy.
Tam stood next to him, a statue. She might not even have breathed. His hand found hers and she squeezed, hard.
II. Kaija
Kaija stood in the back, eyes flitting left and right, taking in the too warm room too full of Emerites. She spotted another faithful, younger, just out of his apprenticeship. He made eye contact, smiled, then turned away. Smart to stay separated, but she would have welcomed intelligent company.
A woman settled beside her, tilting her hood enough for Kaija to see her face: Nieve Lac. "Why are you here?"
Kaija shifted. "As an impartial observer."
Lac stared straight ahead. At what was left of Pathing? The children? "Did you do it?"
Kaija pulled her hood lower. "Do you not mean we, sister?"
"That depends on your answer." Clipped, harsh, but pitched low.
Kaija eyed the wizards around them; none seemed to overhear, but that meant little. "This is not a good place to talk."
Lac met her gaze: power rushed behind her eyes, unshielded for the single moment it took for Kaija to see.
She took a steadying breath. "Master Dweven did not order it."
"That is not an answer," Lac muttered.
"It is the best answer I have." Kaija gently twined her arm with Lac's. "I am sorry this hurts you, sister."
Lac bowed her head before extracting herself and slipping away.
III. Canan
Canan Weccear stood to the side of the room, hands clasped behind her back. Her eyes swept the room, putting faces to names: Talles Sauvest, Ghost Seer, dedicated to the cause; Donat Vider, Ghost Seer, arrived early that morning, sworn to the Assembly; Paragon Ventufere, of course; Elijah Glower, healer, of little import; Nieve Lac, Ghost Seer, speaking with--
Hm.
Liyfendal had nerve showing her face here, Canan could give her that. Although an incredibly tempting target, Canan saw no way to take her down without causing a scene.
Irritating. Not a total loss, however; the Court would have questions for Lac.
She returned her gaze to the Pathing siblings; both warranted surveillance. Law enforcement was a noble occupation, but firestarters were often trouble. And if the younger took after his mother in any way, he would need to handled appropriately.
Canan did not let herself sigh. Funerals put her in a mood.
IV. Tamsin
She couldn't breath.
The body was clean and whole, dressed in tailored robes. The Formator had done a remarkable job; the woman in the glass case looked nothing like the torn up disaster Tam had seen in the morgue.
(The body required identification, and Lady drown her if she would let Mitchell do it.
Skull fractured, dented like a half-inflated beach ball. Collarbone shattered. Both arms broken in multiple places. Punctured--
Elijah pulled her away.)
"--preserved forever here, in our memories, in the Lady's arms--"
Pressure from all sides; she was underwater, losing air.
(Galfrede's office was too small. Tamsin paced, fury heavy in her chest.
How fast had the car been going? Were there any witnesses? Had the wards been tampered with? Who was the first responder? Was she wearing her seatbelt? Did she go through the windshield? How long did it take her to die?
Galfrede told her to go home.)
She couldn't move her head, the water was too thick. She couldn't see the body's face. She was drowning.
Mitchell grabbed her hand and she held on tight, her only lifeline.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject