Two Bodies

[ascendant_npc]

Who: Rudolph Atkins, Isaiah Boswell, Antonin Dolohov, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Demetrius Greensmith, Auror Gunn, Edric Nott, Theodore Nott, OPEN
What: A most exciting funeral
Where: Saint Ibar Cemetery, Wexford County, Ireland
When: 5 o'clock PM, Friday, June 9th, 2000
Status: Incomplete
Warnings: Blood, violence and bad words

Comments

[seeingdarkness]

Theodore sat in the front row, seated beside Izzy on one side and Rudy on the other, feet tapping absently, back straight. His head turned back as he felt a tug, but he dismissed it chewing on the inside of his cheek and looking back towards the service.

He'd lost track of Edric, but was sure he was somewhere nearby. Maybe that explained the pull, but it kept nagging at him, in the back of his mind.

He didn't like funerals. No one likes funerals, but they made Theo think all sorts of thoughts he didn't want to. Margo...Mum...Sturgis...I don't want to die...I never want to die...what happens when you die...what if you just...disappear? Blinking back a strange burning he swallowed, leaning in on himself, resting his cheek in his palm.

[dodropdead]

It wasn't quite raining. The sky thought about it, quite intently really, and occasionally it would test it out a bit, give a little sprinkle, and decide it wasn't quite right. Not the proper moment. Not enough built up yet. Waiting for something. Each little spatter would tappity-tap on Izzy's umbrella and not even be heavy enough to drip off the sides. Air just moist, like the eyes in this crowd; no tears, not here. Later, away from everyone, alone

[seeingdarkness]

Blue eyes rose, turning towards the friendly hand with a small, thankful twitch of his lips, though he remained rather pale. He straighted back up, glancing briefly up with a quizzical expression, the light drops having stopped, though no sun seemed to have broken out through the clouds.

"Thank you," he mumbled softly, fingers finding his way to his signet ring and tracing it absently, then along the thin red line that marred his hand and finally gripping his wrist, forcing his hands to still. Now was not the time for fidgeting.

[maledettodolly]

When the world went to hell and the people he loved were pulled partway along with it (as they often were: it was in their nature), Rudy considered himself a heavy comfort. The counterweight. Rather dumb and lacking in helpful cheerfulness. Like a weight. But reliable, able to do it's job. Like a weight. The weight grounded people. Made them feel if not safe, then held down with a steady pressure as though being encompassed by a lover, or a trusted friend. Pushing, gentle pressure. He thought it rather absurd in his own way: despite his ability to react predictably in most situations, he fell short when it came to matters of the heart. If it was about him: he ran away. Very simple way to momentarily fix things. If it was a pain and suffering and cringing bout of tears born from someone else's heart, he could only be that weight. Expressionless, or awkward, but always that heavy, gentle, love

[highnoonsun]

They expected him to be here. That's why they sent the Auror; Gunn, sitting so prim and still, patient, taking in each of their faces, complete, unabridged criminal records of every person present running through his mind. His eyes on the back of Theo's head, on Rudy's, flicking up the hill. To Edric's casual slouch, drifting smoke, raised chin. Occasionally, a gathered drop from the leaves above falling into his hair

[ascendant_npc]

The assembly stood and pale fingers shifted their grip on the concealed weapon, slowly pulling it out, letting it rest at his side. His heart was so loud he could scarcely hear himself think. It was an easy job, squeeze the trigger, leave, nothing to it. Stephen had outlined it all so simply. It wasn't murder, it was justice; it was something that needed to be done. Think how many they had killed. What was this on life in the face of all that

[seeingdarkness]

Theodore had stood, giving Rudy's hand a final squeeze before dropping it. It was done. He just had to pay his respects, and then go find-

A frown suddenly creased his lips, brow furrowing, and he slowly turned his head back. He'd never felt this pull before. It was foreign, and...big...much too big, he didn't understand...

But before he could make sense of it there was a horrible fire ripping through him, lips parted in a pained gasp as he stumbled, falling back into Isiah. So many things hurt at once, it was though his insides had been torn apart, and he didn't know where to hurt, or what had happened. His breath came in short sputtery gasps, eyes darting about frantically, looking for an answer he couldn't see.

Shock was slowly ebbing the pain away, leaving only confusion and sputtered gasps as he coughed up blood, hands panting himself down, trying to find the wound, slick with blood. "...Dad?..."

[maledettodolly]

It was much too quick, the sound heard too late, the damage done. He barely remembered acting, but as he came into himself, the noises around him coming louder, his vision cleared, his breath too-loud now, he found himself with his fingers messily pushed to Theodore's abdomen.

"Pressurepressurepressure-" he mumbled, eyes flickering to Theo's face, his eyes, his hands, his shoulders again and down to his torso, drenched in too-much blood. Frustrated, he murmured a healing spell, frantic, knowing it could be useless, harmful even. Tears spilled uselessly down his cheeks as he pushed at the wound. The blood seemed to be coming still, but he couldn't tell, couldn't see anything.

"Don't let him go." His voice was monotone as he addressed Isaiah, and his head popped up from the scramble of people and overturned white chairs to watch the hill, looking for Ed. Where was he? Where was Ed. He needed a healing spell- Rudy was no good, and he didn't know why it was happening, but there were too many people and questions and not enough answers

[highnoonsun]

"What the fuck are you going to do, you fucking cunt

[maledettodolly]

It seemed as though there was no way to slow it down- Ed was too fast- a ghost, not where he needed to be. He was destroying somebody when he needed to be healing-

Quickly he was gathering Theodore in his arms, blood streaking down his front, too, the boy's head lolling on his shoulder. His whisperings meant nothing, the gunshots and the yelling and the wands pointed here and there just more dangers to the boy.

"I'm going to Mungo's, I'm going-" His eyes tripped over Isaiah- his surprised stare and behind him, to the flicked hair of that Prophet Reporter. The man's eyes were wide, his nostrils flared, pale and stricken with a blue tinge. He didn't breath.

"Mr. Greensmith. Be kind in your next issue." His voice was strangely calm as he glanced away, to Ed, to the scene, to Gunn and he was apparating away, blood still dripping though he was nowhere near to see the puddle it had made in the grass.

[highnoonsun]

They were all watching. From the road, from the hill, from a safe distance. Watching the gun drop to the ground, and the limp boy, a heavy, wet thud in the remnants of his own face. Now they were crying.

Edric spread his arms, waiting for Gunn to do something with that pointed wand, wrist stained red and the cuff of his shirt only looking innocently wet.
Then he was gone, following his son and friend, and Gunn could only lift a shaking handkerchief to his lips.

The healing couldn't begin until the underlying cause was destroyed.

Muggleborn. Mudbloods.

[mister_draco]

Funerals really made a person start to question their own mortality. It all came back to death, something most would rather forget. Draco was one of those people. Death, lifeless bodies, the whole lot. Anything connected with the grim reaper made him vastly uncomfortable. It was why he was tugging at his collar and trying to not think too long on the reason for being here.

He was sitting almost calmly until everything went wrong. There was a shot and blood, far too much blood. Draco felt ill and did not know what to do. He stood uncertain, growing paler by the minute. He needed to do something but his legs would not move. He just stared, almost unseeing while his mouth was set in a thin line. Merlin, he hoped Theo did not die.

[detriplethreat]

The cat that was Dolohov had been sulky about, taking shelter under a chair, watching the procession with respect. He had taken a few caution steps out as they stood, and then-

He was all puffed up, fur standing on end, teeth bared at the gun shot, clawing his way up the nearest body, a young familiar blond, clinging to him with sharp claws and meowing demanding-ly.

[mister_draco]

The shock trance Draco had worked himself into was shattered at the painful clawing up his body. Normally, he was the poster boy for animal loving but this cat was not receiving Draco‘s adoration. “Ow!” Draco exclaimed, cursing and looking down at the feline. Seeing the pitiful look, Draco couldn’t help but take pity. Carefully, he pulled the cat off him and cradled it in his arms. “It will be alright,” Draco whispered, stroking its furry head.

Looking at the unfolding scene, Draco clutched the cat a little tighter. It was comforting not being alone, even if the company was an animal.

[detriplethreat]

Mis-matched eyes blinked up at him, seeming to take him in, and then he nuzzled the boy, meowing and jumping jumping. Feet padded away, then he turned back and looked to him, tail swishing and giving a pleasing meow, taking a few more steps before circling back.

Come on...follow the pretty kitty.