Invitation on the Message Board

[ikissdhimbck]

Sometime after the bar returns to normal — or what passes for normal in Milliways — a note appears on the message board. It's written in a fine, looping pen, on paper embossed with pressed flowers.


Angus Urquhart
of Monadhliath

A wake will be held to honor the passing
of the man most knew as Urquhart
Wednesday, at two o'clock
November the Thirteenth
to continue until dark.

All are invited to attend,
and may bring a bottle of aged whiskey to send off their friend (or foe).
(Should any wish to help with arrangements, inquiries may be left below.)
The wake will be held by the lakeside.
 

Comments

[herr_bookman]

Interesting, Autor thinks, filing away the little tidbit about his name and how she may know him--as well as her reaction to his distress.

He takes the seat and notes the tea before nodding dully, in response to her comments. "Urquhart taught me that to put down roots is not such a bad thing after all."

And how to plant a clean line of spargel, but that's Autor's secret.

[ikissdhimbck]

She chuckles quietly.

"You're a wanderer too, then?"

[herr_bookman]

"I don't know of many people who aren't," he says, clutching the offered cup but not drinking from it. "Especially here."

He purses his lips, looking out over the bar. "Sometimes I think Bar drags us in here so we'll find people we'll want to put down roots with."

[ikissdhimbck]

Her features soften.

She glances into her own tea cup, and nods.

"S'not a bad guess. I certainly never expected I'd grow so fond of the place, or meet people I cared so much about. Angus had a joyful heart. Last I saw him was when it was snowin' outside. We got in a snowball fight."

She laughs, shaking her head as if to say 'can you imagine?'

[herr_bookman]

Autor knows exactly what that laugh means, and nods.

"Last I saw him"--he was running towards an open door--"he teased me, and cooked me lunch," the boy says, on a few soft breaths. "He... probably could have picked me up with one arm, he was so strong."

[ikissdhimbck]

"Mm, he did have a serpent's tongue."

And an even sharper wit.

She reaches out, gently brushing Autor's hand.

"M'sorry for your loss, as well."

[herr_bookman]

The boy jerks back, startled. "Don't," he says, and releases her teacup.

"Aside from the music, is there anything I can provide for the wake without... actually being there?"

[ikissdhimbck]

"M'terribly sorry."

She folds her hands back in her lap immediately. He's clearly upset, and she doesn't want to make things harder on him.

"Miss Dinah is providin' flowers, an' we'll have a table set up if y'wanna leave a token. Since there won't be a burial, it's merely what y'feel is appropriate t'say goodbye. If y'know his favorite songs, I think he'd rather like that most."

She smiles softly.

[herr_bookman]

"Oh, right, of course there'd be no burial," he says, tipping his head back. "Of course not. Shiva wept."

He cups his chin in his hand, keeping his eyes on her face--and not the door. It easier, now; he's not gasping anymore when he thinks about it. "Dinah's flowers will be good, though. I'll try to find something appropriate."

The boy can't smile at her, not really. But he can take the tea she offered, with hands that are fairly steady.

[ikissdhimbck]

"M'sorry."

She can't tell if the news of no burial upsets him more, though he seems a little more at ease. This isn't her first wake here, though the oddities of the circumstances never truly get easy to bear.

"Milliways does provide her own unique circumstances when it comes t'the dead. Whatever y'choose I'm sure will be appropriate. An' if y'can't think of anythin', I'm sure little things will crop up tomorrow y'can lend a hand with."

However, the music should be plenty. Urquhart had a gay heart filled with little regret.

[herr_bookman]

Autor stares at her, thinking. He breathes through his nose, short and soft. "Milliways does," he finally says, and then shakes his head. "Thanks for your faith in me. I'll see you there to set it up."

He stands, offers a little bow, and leaves his tea untouched.

[OOC: And yours to wrap/counter if you have one, I think. Thanks for the thread!]

[ikissdhimbck]

She nods politely when he bows, watching as he walks away.

She missed a lot by leaving the bar over All Hallows'. She can't say she isn't glad to be spared the nightmares, but there always is that lingering guilt when she sees what it's wrought on those who stayed. Particularly when there's been a death.

She retrieves her tea, and sighs. She'll make it a point to look out for him tomorrow.


[ooc: Perfect, thank you!]