Mourning

Mourning

Postby Dulcie » Sat Nov 09, 2013 12:21 am

Dulcie was no stranger to mourning. In fact with pretty dresses put away once she regained her faculties, it was not difficult to find the many black dresses she had tucked away in the back of her armoire. She hadn't been to the tavern in the weeks past Rhaena's murder. She had sunk into that dark, deep place of mourning and loss that was all too familiar to the innkeeper.

She had spent weeks inside her cottage, crying and cursing the Gods that she didn't believe in. She had heard the tales about the Storyteller and she had no doubt that Rhaena would never have done the horrible things she had done if it hadn't have been for the Storyteller's influence. She herself had been a victim, searching for love amongst dozens of faces that had no true love for her. It had all felt so real. Perhaps in a way she had hoped that it would have all gone away. That this too was unreal and that one day she would wake up and her friend would be alive, that Glenn would be sleeping on her couch after a bad row with his loved one and that everything would be the way that it had been over a year ago.

So much time had passed however, and Dulcie had to let go of the hope that this had all been some horrible illusion. She tried not to cry as she buttoned herself into one of those black gowns of mourning, choosing one with a nice high collar, after memories of all those months flouncing around exposing her skin. She sniffled as she bound her hair up into a braided bun and left her cottage, watching the sun rise on the two graves in her yard that were dedicated to those she had already lost. She might have added a third, but somehow she knew that wouldn't be right. Rhaena wasn't all hers, and she was sure she wasn't the only one mourning.

By the time she reached the meetinghouse and requested the now Governor Treadwell she had managed to get ahold of herself, her eyes only rimmed red with the evidence of tears that had been, but clear of any that might have threatened to come. She had a purpose here, and she wasn't going to let her emotions get in the way.
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Re: Mourning

Postby Treadwell » Sat Nov 09, 2013 2:48 am

The white-bearded ball of a man is, for once, not too hard to find; he happens to be at the meetinghouse instead of overseeing tax collector underlings in his employ, carving and stuffing new toys in his shop, or playing with his children at home. He is in his office--the one with his name on a plaque on the door, not Glenn Burnie's beside it. Aloisius has never taken the time to move into the Governor's office, partly because he understands that his role is meant to be a temporary one.

Thus, when Dulcie arrives, she finds Treadwell plumped into the large, well-cushioned seat behind his desk with one of the books of Myrken Wood's law code opened before him. Today, it seems, is a red day for Treadwell: his suit coat that hangs on a stand behind his desk, the floppy hat atop said coat, his vest, his shirt, his trousers, and the gloves neatly folded to his left under the front cover of the opened law book are all a brilliant scarlet. The suspenders that strain to hold those trousers in place, though, are an equally brilliant white to match his billowy cloud of a beard.

"Hmph hmph!" comes the clearing of his throat that sets his pipe to fluffing out a gently fragrant, scented smoke as a pleasant smile warms those ruddy jowls. "Why, hullo! What, hmm hmm, can I do for you this morning, hmm?"
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: Mourning

Postby Dulcie » Sun Nov 10, 2013 12:44 am

Red. Such an insensitive color, but Dulcie did her best to stuff down the anger that so easily boiled up in her. She made her way into his office and took a seat across from him, clutching to the handkerchief in her hand.

"I've come because there's been no funeral for Rhaena, no public memorial, no day of mourning, nothing. I'm not even sure that her death is being investigated." Her eyes were starting to well up again, her hold on her emotions only going so far.

"I know what she did, but I know she wouldn't have done that if something hadn't made her do it. Rhaena was a good person. She helped the town. She was my friend, she was your friend, and it's like everyone has just forgotten her." She sniffled and pressed her handkerchief to her face for a moment before she started again.

"We need to remember her Aloisus. We need people to remember her the way she was, and not as the monster she died as. Please. You're the only person who can arrange this. I know Glenn isn't back, but with everything that's happened I wonder if he'll ever be. It's the responsibility of us, her friends, to make sure that Rhaena is given a proper service."
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Re: Mourning

Postby Treadwell » Sun Nov 10, 2013 7:15 am

"A memorial service," he replies, puffing thoughtfully at his pipe as he wriggles back into the comfy cushions of his oversized chair.

"I understand what you're asking, miss, hmph hmph, but the wound, as such, is still very much open for most. People are just beginning to return to some semblance of their normal lives--those who can, hmm hmm, who didn't lose family or livelihoods to all this madness of lords and ladies. I fear that to mention to all in Myrken of such a possibility of a memorial or funeral, mmph, might only be a dreadful, unintentional disaster."

A small frown makes the pipe bob gently in his lips.

"Ask around of what clergy there might be willing to oversee such a service--likely small, likely private, mmph mmph, to keep the peace properly but to leave it open to those who wish to involve themselves of such. You know, also, that most of the folks in town hold quite fast to, traditionally, mmph mmph, burning the dead after too many concerns with that in the past. A proper funeral--burial and all--might be a tricky matter to arrange, I fear."

A fat finger flits up from where it rests on his great gut.

"I suggest a small, private, and, most importantly, safe service to help soothe those who need it most, first, with a more proper memorial after time has had some months for the rest to heal, mmph mmph. If necessary, I suppose an official guard presence for the former can be worked up, hmm hmm?"

A nod, a dip of chin into floofy white mass of beard.

"As for Glenn Burnie, the search continues. He will be found, and, should he wish the position, he will be restored to his proper seat."

At this, Aloisius waggles pudgy fingers toward the side of his own chamber, indicating the direction of the absent Governor's office.

"Is there aught else, madam, that you wish to ask of me, hmm hmm?"
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: Mourning

Postby Dulcie » Sun Nov 10, 2013 8:06 am

Small. Private. As if Rhaena was some dirty secret to be tucked away. "That's hardly good enough Treadwell. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault anymore than it was my fault to go running around flirting with hoardes of men, or the fault of all those people who spent days staring at shards of mirror glass. She deserves better than to just be tucked away and hidden from view like... like she's some little thing that shouldn't be bothered with."

She started to cry a little, the innkeeper hiding her face behind her handkerchief. When she collected herself she'd start again.

"Fine. Fine... I'll see what I can do to arrange something for her. You're a priest though Treadwell and you won't even do it yourself?" She found that more disturbing than anything.

"And what about her murder? She was murdered, and no one is saying anything about finding out who did it. And why is her body still here, shouldn't it have been burned by now? What if someone tries to raise her?"
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Re: Mourning

Postby Treadwell » Sun Nov 10, 2013 9:14 am

"I didn't say that I wouldn't oversee any of it, Dulcie. I merely said you should ask of the clergy to see who would, mmph mmph. Was she of a particular faith? That would be a good place to begin. If she wasn't, or if her faith isn't represented here, or if you would rather just have me handle it, hee hee. . . well, I can certainly help in that regard. I'd be more than capable of managing a respectable eulogy and service, hmm hmm."

That warm, gentle smile spreads again, causing the pipe to again bob upward between his lips as he smokes.

"As for the murder, I don't know that there is anything we can do to discern who actually put blade to flesh or what have you; there's not a soul in town who knows anything of what happened, mmph mmph, at that time. We have no witnesses who can remember anything of that missing hour, and there were far too many people found in far too dangerous or compromising, mmph, positions after, all around the town, to be able to say that one person did it, or two, or this person told that one where to go, or any of it, mmph mmph. With all respect, we couldn't manage to learn any of that when it happened, mmph, and I don't know that we're any better off now, even, removed from the moment as we are."

A snort for breath.

"Short of somehow magically spiriting oneself backward in time, which certainly isn't possible, I don't know how to even begin finding any more information about that bit of business. That would be the bailiwick of the constables, mmph, and they seem as much at the end of their wits about it as I am."

Treadwell pauses to think, to breathe, a wheezy lump in his chair.

"And I was unaware that her body was still around. Might I ask if you know where it's being kept? Please, do help me with this?"
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: Mourning

Postby Dulcie » Mon Nov 11, 2013 9:50 am

It was all a great deal that just got her more flustered.

"I.. I hadn't thought of religion." Dulcie herself was an outspoken atheist. She had no use for the Gods nor any belief in them. Sometimes she forgot that her friends were different. "I'll talk to her brother, and I'll let you know."

He went on and on, excuses about why an investigation couldn't be, and for once Dulcie swallowed down her anger and emotion and just nodded.

"No.. no I don't know where the body is. You just said it was still a mess so I thought you knew. I assumed it had been burned by now. Shouldn't you know? Didn't the constables remove it like they do when other people have bene murdered?" She'd shake her head then, waving off her question with her hand. "Nevermind. That doesn't matter. You don't need a body for a memorial service." Dulcie had never been given a body for any of the people she had loved and lost.

"Thank you for your time. I think I should go." She'd say finally, getting up and making her way towards the door of the meetinghouse.
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Re: Mourning

Postby channe » Mon Nov 11, 2013 4:39 pm

A letter comes to Dulcie the next morning.

My dearest Dulcie,

I'm laid up at the hospital with stabbing wounds for the next few days but then I am going to fecking tear down this joint if they doant let me out. They will not say where her body is or what happened to it and I cant reach Aleksei in Thessilane to help and if they burnt her already we cant find out if her body was magicked but I have been UNCONSHUS WITH DRUGS AND PAIN and COULD NOT WALK so i could not do anything and my hands are still tied and I CANT TAKE IT ANYMOR. We need to take care of this ourselves becaus we are the only ones left that cared about her and she deserves more and we have to find out what happened to her because IT COULD HAPPEN AGAIN.

i keep on telling people that she was taken in Razasan and that she was kilt there and what came back wasn't her.

DO YOU BELIEVE ME.

Yrs,
Agnie
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Re: Mourning

Postby Dulcie » Sat Nov 16, 2013 12:44 am

It was a good thing she had learned to read. Actually, that had been Rhaena's doing, and now hopefully it would be what helped her honor her friend's memory, and find some form of vengence on those that had killed her.

"Agnie,


I spoke to Treadwell. He dus not know ware her body is ether. Someone is hiding some thing. She does deserve more. After talking to Treadwell I agree that we need to take care of this our selfs. I beeleve you. There is a man who visits the dagger. I have heard he helps look for things the constahbulls won't look for. May bee he can help us too?

Dulcie"
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