aftershock | enoch & kip | ruina rex & the funeral
[Kip couldn’t fucking believe he missed the funeral. Well, he could. He could easily believe it. He just hated it, because it was completely outside of his control. All he’d wanted was to say goodbye, but he’d barely gotten within hearing distance of the funeral before he’d had to turn tail. Too many feelings, all of them awful.
It just never ends. He knows he looks like shit, because he’s not been sleeping well lately and there’s dark circles hanging heavy beneath his eyes, his hair sticks up at angles where he keeps running his fingers through it, and he’s pale and drawn because he’s not been eating. He really can’t face the dining hall right now, so all he’s eaten is what Cambie brought to the dorm to force him to eat.
Spending the better part of the last few days burrowed in his bed, Kip’s been thinking a lot. About Louis, mainly. His funeral was the hardest thing Kip had ever done, but he was glad that he had gone anyway because he’d been able to say goodbye. They say funerals are for the living, not the dead; while he can’t speak on behalf of the dead, Kip can confidently say as a member of the living that it helped. It contextualised the grief.
But he just couldn’t be there, not as an Empath. So the sun is already going down by the time he reemerges, and the rain has more or less stopped. The ground is muddy, and Kip squelches his way to the Memorial with his hood pulled up against any further raindrops. He’s aware of another presence there before he can even see the guy – his Infection is rubbed raw and sensitive right now. Everyone feels too much, too loud. Though he has to admit, though he slows his pace, as he gets closer it doesn’t feel as bad as it might.
Right. He gets close enough to realise it’s the reverend. It’s part of the job description to have good vibes. Kip does consider turning back anyway, but he’s come all this way now and Enoch is not-offputting enough that he feels he might as well stay.]
Wow. Long funeral. Hope they give you snack breaks. [Alright, from the solitude and the cigarette hanging from Enoch’s lips, it’s obvious this isn’t the funeral, this is the guy taking his own time to process things without an audience; Kip’s just hardwired to crack wise. He folds his arms, leaning back against the wall and staring at the mound of freshly turned earth. There’s a dead body under there. It freaks him out. Kaiser’s dead body, and it’s empty; not Kaiser, just a shell that was him, and the worms are probably already opening their soft mouths to him. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but somehow now that he’s here, he just feels numb. It’s like the constant barrage of emotions in the last few days has short circuited him, and his own feelings are too deep in hiding to be summoned now. It probably doesn’t help that there’s a reverend standing right there. Kip is always acutely aware of his never-ending sinfulness when near the clergy. Like, yes I’m mourning for this guy, who I very nearly fucked even though he’s literally old enough to be my father.
Like, literally. Kip had heard ‘Diederick’ swipe into Delma and connected the dots from there.]
[[ Enoch wasn’t expecting in his first few weeks here he’d be leading a funeral service. The man’s son was adamant Enoch doesn’t say anything about how ‘good’ of a father the man was, and he couldn’t help but think of his own parents. It’s shocking how tragedy seems to make everyone so selfish. Thoughts turn inward, to their own family and lives. Given the fact Enoch had never met the man, it only makes sense he would reach for similarities where he could. His happened to be in the total disillusionment of his parents having been any good at their one job.
Understandably, Caleb couldn’t face another funeral. Their last had been a difficult one. At least now as his thoughts wander, Enoch can only be grateful that he finally told their mother to fuck off, to let them grief Ben’s passing peacefully without her vitriol. Those thoughts aren’t held onto: they arrive and pass just as his cigarette smoke drifts off into the cold, damp evening air.
Right now, he’s only idly considering how they managed to find a coffin so quickly. He’d quite like a natural burial, he thinks. Wrap him in a shroud: let the worms get to him quickly.
It’s peaceful in the memorial, now. Most people avoiding it so Enoch takes the opportunity to simply sit quietly, smoke with the same dedication and ritual he’d give to praying through a rosary. Foot steps, heavy and sodden in the mud draw his attention.
Enoch’s gaze is slow, lazy, as he looks up at the approaching figure. A young man he doesn’t recognise from the funeral itself. There’s very little reason to be out here besides to pay respects. It’s safe to assume, he thinks, that this man couldn’t face the funeral. Understandable.]]
Oh, they gave me plenty. [[ The joke is met with a light chuckle and exhale of smoke. It looks almost blue in the dim light. This time of day is becoming his favourite, Enoch can look at people without them being cast in too much detail. ]] I think I would have preferred being paid in tobacco. [[ He deadpans, tapping off ash and turning his attention to the freshly dug grave. ]]
Did you want some time alone or...? [[ Enoch asks, figuring it’s open ended enough that he can give Enoch as much, or as little, of his thoughts as he would like. ]]
