❥▐ cupid's brew

​

Soon enough Julius was visited by Noelle and to his surprise Maria and Tucker was along with her as well. Julius was quite pleased to see them visit him and it really made him happy to have them around, but at the point they reached him fatigue was starting to rear its ugly head. Julius tried his best to remain the very energetic, potty-mouthed Julius,but there were obvious signs of his fatigue.

True his wounds were beginning to heal, but Julius just couldn't wait till he could finally get the hell out of the hospital. Out of all things he definitely did not want to worry or upset somebody about his situation and the faster he was out the much faster nobody had to worry about him. He did his best to converse with them and in the end it seemed he figured out just what happened to him. It was odd to the man that he never truly ever really paid much attention to what caused his own pain. All the news about the deaths and the work seemed to be what overshadowed this and he just didn't really pay heed to it.

Soon enough Julius had to say goodbye to the three and after telling them to come to him if they needed anything they were soon off and he was left alone again. Time passed on and after rehearsals Jonathan returned to his room and after some quick brotherly banter and a status update, Jonathan was off back to his hotel and off to sleep. With the day at an end Julius fell asleep.

 

OOC: Ugh Comp went pewf so I'm gonna make a quick post to end my day on my phone

IC: Sasha eventually went back home. The three people she 'stalked' on somewhat irritated her. They had the decency to accept a random person waltzing in, but not for the random girl next tot hem? Well even if they did believe she was a stalker, but still! They should know better than that! People are idiots these days.

Back home, Sasha sighed and dropped her stuff before making her way to her room. After the many complaints she would eventually help her guild mates through their daily grinds and raid fights. After all that was done, she laid on her bed and fell asleep, praying for a better tomorrow.

 

​

⟣ DATE⁞ Thursday, December 31st, 2015 ⟡ DAY⁞ 11 1/4 ⟡ ♫ ⟢​

⟣ LOCATION⁞ Funeral Home ⟡ INTERACTION⁞ ✖ ⟢​

⟣ WEARING ⟡ OOC⁞ ✖ ⟢​

Ryder drove his car with his mother and sister in the passenger seats. He had offered to give Elisa a ride as well, but she had respectfully declined. The girl had suddenly decided to distance herself from him, and he couldn't help but be a little grateful for it--although, oddly disappointed as well. As much as she was smothering him, not having her cling onto him every waking second of the day made him feel lonely. Oh well, his family was definitely filling the void. He had called his dad a couple days ago, informing him of when the funeral was. The man said he couldn't be bothered with something like that. It irked him. Even with Ryder being his obvious favorite, the guy still pissed him off pretty frequently. They were his kids. He should want to come see his son--to say goodbye; something, anything. Nope. He couldn't be bothered.

His mother had done a relatively good job holding it together as she helped his little sister get ready for the funeral. It would be the first time they had seen Richie's body in a couple days. That was still hard to comprehend. Ryder kept expecting him to open his eyes and be all; 'gotcha! You should have seen the looks on your faces!' and laugh ridiculously. However, Richie wasn't the one to pull pranks like that. Ryder, on the other hand, would have totally done something like that had he thought of it first.

The stereo in his dashboard read 2:09 when they pulled into Peterson's Funeral Home. That's where the service would be held, then to the cemetery for the burial, followed by the church for food. The service didn't start til three, but his mother wanted to be there early so that she could spend some last minute quality time with her baby boy. It was a good thing Sophie's family was paying for all of this, because there was no way the could afford to host Richie's funeral on their own. Plus, it would have only made her into a even larger mess than she was to begin with.

Ryder killed the engine to his car and let out the women. His sister was already crying and she flung herself into his arms. He wrapped one arm around her and stroked her hair as they walked inside the building. It was cold and fairly quiet. A soft melody played through the building and when they entered the room filled with floral arrangements and rows upon rows of chairs, he watched as his family crumbled. His mother couldn't even make it to the front. There were four caskets alined in a row at the front. They stood near the large double doors at the back and his mother's knees visibly buckled. She collapsed at his side and he was forced to help the pair of them into the red cushy seats in the back. Ryder sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes.

He should be as devastated as the both of them were. His mother couldn't even make it to the front to view Richie's lifeless body. Maybe if he saw it again. Ryder combed his fingers through his blond hair and eyed both of the women in his family before turning his attention to the pale red pastel caskets at the front of the room. His legs shook as he walked slowly forward. The march to the front felt like he was wading through muck with weights around his ankles. Each step was heavier than the last. How did people do it? How did they walk down that aisle to look upon the faces of their dead family members? His breathing seemed to get tighter and tighter as he went. By the time he reached the front he wasn't breathing at all. Ryder held in a deep breath, afraid of what he might see. He looked at the others first. They were his classmates. They were people he went to school with, that were friends with his twin, and yet he felt so very detached.

Reluctantly, his blue eyes fell upon the smiling face of his twin. Richie looked so happy and at peace with his eyes closed and that forced smile, made by the mortician, on his face. He let out his breath and his heart thumped rapidly in his cest. His knees seemed to give out as well and he fell to the ground in front of the casket. Ryder pulled his legs to his chin and sat on the small step in front of the soon to be forgotten bodies. How long would it take before each of them were just a flicker of a memory? His family would never be able to let Richie go, so long as they had him--a constant reminder--to look at. They were identical in every physical way except for their eyes. Every time they would look at him in the future, they would be forced to think of their dead son and brother. It wasn't fair. He shook his head, messy blond hair flailed about and Ryder buried his face in his knees. It wasn't fair.

 

☆ Clothes ☆ Mood» Upset ☆ Music ☆ Date: 12/31/2015 Location » Home ☆ OOC:☆ ​

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Estelle got her sister to drive her to the funeral. Even though she knew none of the people who had died, she figured, since it upset Zoey so much... that she should pay her respects, she felt she owed it to the poor child she saw in the hospital a few days before. She stepped out of the car, her black dress almost getting caught in the door. She went inside, and saw another boy there already. She didn't look at him. She sat down, and saw a group of 3 (Seraphina's parents, I'm just putting them there because they should be Lol), different from the ones already there. The husband, she assumed, looked like a very wealthy business man of some kind, with flaming red hair. He looked young. On his hand was the wife she thought. She looked very fashionable, and had darker red hair, which was curled. Near another casket, was a young girl, that had the flaming red hair of her father, wearing the same kind of dress as her mother. She was crying, but was holding it in well. She saw that the parents couldn't even look at the casket. It looked like they had a lot of regrets. They looked like the type that wouldn't have much time for there children, since they looked so rich... she wondered if her family was rich, would they be closer together or father apart? ​

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Estelle looked away, it wasn't any of her business. She stood there, praying that they would all be at peace. And she looked around the room some more. She wondered if Aidan... if he went to the same school these kids came from. But... she realized she goes (Or used to go, since she doesn't have much time for school, apparently) to this school also... she wondered if she had been so possessed to come here, because it was her own school. She shrugged. She was here, maybe people would ask who she was, but she would explain all the same. Other then that, Estelle waited for some more people to come, so she could apologize for there loss. ​

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♔: ♠ « MUSIC ♠ « [ WEARING ] ♠ « ✉ 0 ♠ « TIME: 2:43pm♠ :♔​

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A funeral. He didn't want to go, but he felt like he should. He hadn't really left his house at all since the ... incident. It was a bit of an understatement to say he was disturbed about the whole thing. Depression hung over him like a cloud, but he wasn't the type to stay down under for long. Pierce was helping a lot more than he'd like to admit. They didn't text every second, but often enough that he didn't feel completely shut off from the world. They would be going ice skating again after New Years. He had been completely caught off guard when she invited him to go, but accepted eagerly. He looked forward to it.​

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Now was the time for sadness, though. The funeral. He didn't necessarily understand it, but it was a joint one. Maybe it was easier on the parents to do it this way, and for the guests, but in any case -- all of the bodies would be buried at the end of the day and all of the families would be gathered together. A funeral is a good place mourn, his brother had always told him. You get it all out with everyone else. It's okay to cry at a funeral. Then, once you've said good bye ...​

It didn't feel so easy though. There was absolutely no closure for him regarding the case and accusations. Something had gone on in that house. It was a tragedy, but not some kind of freak accident, he was sure of it! He wanted answers. He needed them. How frustrating ...​

​

He arrived at the funeral home and sat in his car for a bit, staring at his his phone and wondering if Pierce would be coming. It would be weird to text her about a funeral like it was a party or something, so he refrained. Instead, he tucked his cell phone away and got out of the car. ​

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Once inside of the funeral home, he received a memorial folder and took a seat, scanning over it to waste time until three.​

 

⎛ DAY 11 ‖ 1/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ DECEMBER 31ST ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ FUNERAL HOME ⎠
⎛ MOOD ‖ WEARY ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ 0% ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠

❝ ＩＦ ＯＮＬＹ ＦＯＲ ＰＥＡＣＥ ＯＦ ＭＩＮＤ . ❞​

Sophie had been spending a lot of time with Pierce, and nearly no one else. Every now and then, Lucas would check in with her, and warn her of getting "too attached" to the girl and the other side not being able to make up. Suffice to say, Sophie wasn't happy with him. What did he mean by telling her that? It was upsetting. Annoying.

They had plans for New Year's Day, she and Sophie, and . . . Well, while Pierce wasn't on guard ( which was when she was either showering, sleeping, or completely busy with something else ) Sophie had decided to take a peek through her phone. What harm could that do? None, as it only helped Sophie to find out that after they went to the spa together, she and Oliver would go ice skating the next day. Wouldn't it be just wonderful if she had coincidentally showed up at the same ice rink? Sophie thought so.

Maybe.

She had left Pierce's house early that day for preparations for the funeral. Her parents would have no say so or complaints about anything because she paid for it out of her own pocket, with her own hard work. Morbid as it sort of was, she was proud that she was able to fester something like this out by herself. With a little help from Lucas — but only a little.

. . . Walking into the funeral home had been very strange. The weight of what had happened in her home didn't exactly feel heavy until she saw the four bodies displayed, and the families in attendance morning. When she walked down the side wall to avoid attention ( for once ), she felt weak in the legs and sat down for just a moment and took a deep breath. She had to remember to count to calm down, and then when she stood up, there was Lucas.

❝When did you get here.❞ she murmured, more as a statement than a question.

❝I was the first here, Nico.❞ he replied, and offered her his arm. Reluctantly, she took it. He led her across the hall, to one of the further back pews, and he sat down, but she did not join him.

❝I was heading to give my condolences. You know, where you express emotion?❞ She didn't catch it, but after he took her coat, and began walking towards the front again, his face flashed with a glare.

Sophie walked towards Ms. Duvont, and saw Richie's twin brother, Ryder. She didn't look at him, but quietly offered her apologies to the mother, who received them coolly, but still hysterical. She tried to remain unfazed. Next was Seraphina's parents, the mother of which lashed out at her, and said many terrible things about her and her family ( Sophie had to agree with most of them, but it was better not to provoke, this once ) until her husband wrangled her in and accepted Sophie's well-wishing with a small bit of haughty gratitude.

By the time Sophie returned to Lucas, her face was jaded and her person was weary. She suddenly craved comfort, and found it in the form of Lucas holding her hand. His were cold, but that was fine. Anything was fine right now.

The service would start soon.

 

[/url]

WEARING ⧉ DATE▹ 12/31/2015 ⧉ DAY▹ 11 & 1/4 ⧉ MUSIC​

MOOD▹ UNCOMFORTABLE ⧉ LOCATION▹ FUNERAL HOME​

OOC▹ ✘ ⧉ INTERACTION▹ ✘ ⧉ ❤▹ 0/10​

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Pierce rode to the funeral with Sophie, but she walked in separate from her. She clenched her fists tightly against her side. There were only two other times she had ever been to a funeral. The most recent was a little over two years ago when all those people died. They held a memorial service for everyone that lost their lives during the fire, ferry, and the events in Lightwood/Bentley/Tilapok fiasco. The other funeral was for her father when she was twelve. That had been devastating. As she looked on the faces of the families that lost one of their children, she couldn't help but be reminded by her father's funeral. The major difference was that it was a military funeral. There were lots of men in uniform and they held guns up as his casket was carried. He had been buried in a military plot and there was a spot next to his where her mother would someday be.

There was a stabbing pain in her chest as she thought about that. Pierce stumbled to a seat in the middle. Her brown eyes grazed over the room. She could see Ryder in the back sitting with his mom and sister. They were both crying on him. Usually the immediate family sat in the first row. Maybe they were just as unable to walk that far as she was. Oliver was here. He looked like a mess. Pierce wondered where Sophie had gone. She glanced around before returning her attention to the front of the room. She should walk up there but her legs didn't seem to be working. She wasn't exactly friends with any of them, but they all worked on the musical with her and Alex and Richie had been there two years ago. They had gone through so much together. After what happened, they shouldn't have to deal with it again. If she went up there, she would probably break down. Pierce didn't want to break down, again.

Even without going to the front, she could feel her lip trembling. She glanced over at Oliver again and then pulled out her phone. She was sitting pretty far away from him and it always seemed easier to talk to him via text message rather than in person. This place was awful. It screamed death. Dead things were creepy and scary. It was almost as terrifying as walking around in the dark. Or camp on Scavenger Hunt nigh--nope! She hadn't gone back to camp after that. While everyone else had managed to keep going, she refused. It was summers spent being lonely and isolated in her bedroom. That was probably the longest time she went without seeing Sophie, who was basically her only friend.

Pierce opened the texting application and clicked on the thread labeled: Oliver. She typed quickly, making sure her phone was on silent, and sent him the composed message. She glanced up at him after sending it, waiting to see if he would check it.

 

[/url]

◀ MOOD⦂ MELANCHOLY ✎ INTERACTION⦂ ✗ ▶​

◀ ☼ ✔ ✎ ♫ ✔ ✐ DAY⦂ 11 & 2/4 ▶​

◀LOCATION⦂ FUNERAL HOME ✐ OOC⦂ ✗ ▶​

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" AND SO IT BEGINS... "​

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x

Erik felt a pang in his chest as he entered the funeral hall. The service was just about to start and he pulled out the crumpled up sheet of paper in his pocket. He decided to say something. He had all of them in school at one point or another, along with what happened at camp. It felt like the right thing to do. There was this guilt clinging to him because he left. If he would have stayed in the room Lucas told him about, would they--no. Erik had been trying really hard not to think that way, but it just continuously crept in. He swallowed and took a seat near the front.

The pastor began the service promptly at three and read a few prayers. His heart clenched tighter as he listened. He didn't cry, but it did hurt. When the pastor looked out into the crowd of families and friends, he stepped aside from the podium and gestured to it. "Would anyone like to say something?" Erik took a deep breath and rose to his feet. He walked slowly, but his long-legged strides took him no time at all to reach the front. His hand made the crumpled up piece of paper sweaty and he had to smooth it out at the podium. His brown eyes drifted to the altar with a large lit candle on it and then to the four caskets. He took another deep breath before turning his attention to the others.

"Ah, hi," he started. Erik had no problem with public speaking and was actually rather charismatic, but this was another situation entirely. "For those of you that don't know me, my name is Erik Winst. I'm a history teacher at the high school division of Fortissimo. I'm also a camp leader at Camp Fortissimo. Two years ago, something rather unfortunate happened. I was there with Richie and Alex when things went from scary to terrifying. It started with the fire at camp that got everyone sent home, followed by the ferry sinking and everyone losing even more people they cared about. We were helped out of the water and taken to some strange town rather than being brought to proper emergency responders. We all got sick and a few more students died. I know personally, I never thought anything quite that terrible would happen again. I had everyone but Seraphina in my History class, but I did get to know her through the musical. All four of them were wonderful to work with. I keep--I keep wracking my brain, wondering if they would still be okay if I hadn't left the after party that night. It was terrible news to wake up to the morning after Christmas. I can't even imagine how the rest of you are feeling. I just know how I'm feeling and to be perfectly honest, it's not good." Erik's voice was steady, but there was sadness on his face.

"We will all miss each of them--Richie, Zach, Alex, and Seraphina. Even those that weren't that close to them are feeling it too. Watching what happened to them happen must have been devastating to those of you that were present. For those few that have seen something like this happen twice now in their lives, I want to urge you not to believe that this means we're all doomed or something. Things will get better, I know it. These wonderful kids wouldn't want us hurting forever. That's why funerals are so important. They give us the opportunity to grieve properly and move on. Everyone needs their own individual amount of time to deal with something of this magnitude. Funerals are more for us, the living, than them, the departed." He attempted a smile, but it was hollow and short-lived. "I'm here, if any of you want to talk. But mostly, we should try to be happy for them. There's nothing we can do for them now aside from letting them live out the rest of their existence in peace. Alex Rhodes. Seraphina Carosella. Zachary Masterson. Richie Duvont. They were all good kids and will be missed. I miss them."

He gave everyone a silent nod and whispered a thank you into the microphone before returning to his seat. Erik crammed the paper back into his pocket and rubbed his sweaty hands on the thighs of his jeans while he waited for other people to take their turns at the podium.

 

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Location: Home {} Mood: Very Moody/Sick {} OOC: Welp. Running short on time. May or may not be my last post before I go off (btw, anyone can respond to the help message she sent out)​

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Sasha munched on some fruit in the kitchen. She really couldn't sleep last night since she was having deep thoughts about today and the funeral. She knew she wasn't planning to go to the funeral nor the party afterwards, but it made her feel guilty somehow. She doesn't know why really. Is it because I failed to go to my own mother's and sister's funeral? That's not fair...I wasn't conscious...She shook her head and scrolled through the phone. Seeing how the schedule is today, there probably won't be practice today. She placed her phone on the table and pondered about the play. Anyways, about that...​

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It seemed her role got smaller and smaller every time she went there. Usually when she went there, they called her as "hey you" or "backup no. 1," not by her name. Sure people forget names, but it feels as if they don't care what her name is. Even when her part comes, they cut her short since she isn't a "vital" part of the play anyways. It irritated her. She wanted to interact with the members and make some sort of memory once she leaves here, but how would she do that if the people won't even call her name at the least? Because life's not fair. Reality is a story where there is no happy ending. In the end, there will only be sadness and regret.​

​

She sighed and got to her feet. Maybe I'll just...relax today. I'm not in the mood for anything fun. On the way to her room, she felt a little dizzy and lightheaded, almost stumbling over. "Ugh...what the hell's going on?" Rubbing her head, she realized her head felt really hot. "Wh-what? A fever? No not just a fever..." She then realized what was causing it. She forgot to change her bandages on her side not to mention she kept fiddling with it before she washed her hands. She probably infected herself with it. If it's not treated, ti could get worse and kill her. Cursing at herself for her own stupidity, she looked around.​

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She left her phone in the kitchen and she wasn't close enough to make a call. But then...her computer! She stumbled her way into the room and leaned against her desk for support, rapidly typing down names using a messaging system she managed to memorize, hoping they would respond. She didn't remember if it was one person or 10 people she sent it out to since her vision and her mind was getting blurred and sluggish. All she remembered was typing down two words and hitting the send button before collapsing onto the floor of her room and losing consciousness.​

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Aidan arrived while Erik was talking. He didn't know the guy that well but he spoke a good piece. He took his seat quietly and mouthed an apology. He could see the coffins up there and felt a sharp pain in his heart. The four, murdered somehow, for some unknown reason. Well, three murders. One suicide. He flashed back to that evening and morning. The arriving, talking to Seraphina, the good times. Then he wandered off, got drunk and passed out. Woke up. There were four dead, sad people in the dining room (Or was it living room, he wasn't sure) the next morning. The cops. Him passing out. God dammit that was horrible.

He felt his breath go all shaky. He felt a horrible pain in his... Wherever it was emotions came from. He hit himself in the leg as tears rolled down his face, cutting a watery path. He wiped the tears away and looked down at himself and where he was. He never imagined he'd be in a situation like this. Dressed in a suit like this. Black trousers, black shoes, black jacket, white shirt with a black tie. He put his head in his hands. This should never have happened. Those four didn't deserve this, not as far as he knew. He cursed the *******(s) that did that to them. He wished them a painful death.

He looked up again at the ceremony. Erik was done talking and someone else was going to take his place soon enough. As he scanned the room, he saw Estelle, the nice girl who talked to him. Why was she here? It didn't even matter. She was paying her respects and that was all that mattered. He looked away. This was a somber occasion. He should be thinking about the people who died, and respecting their memories. Not anyone else's.

Remembering Seraphina was painful, especially the tortured expression on her dying face. The bright, energetic girl he knew reduced to that. He also felt sorry for the others, but there wasn't much he remembered of them. This was a miserable damn year. It was hopeful, but then it kind of went downhill. He couldn't wait until the next. Another year, another chance for things to get better. He didn't expect things to improve overly much this year. He waited. Hopefully someone competent would take to the stage again. Someone who could do the people who had left this world to go into the void of death the wordsmanship they deserved. He doubted he could.

 

Frederick "Freddie" Anderson
DAY: 11 - 3/4 | DATE: December 31st, 2015 | LOCATION: Funeral Home

This is one of the last places he expected to spend part of his New Year's Eve. As soon as he stepped in, a wave of depression hit him like a truck. It was horrible. He could just feel all of the sorrow hanging thick in the air. The more he looked around, the more he felt out of place. It wasn't like he was actually close to the people who died. He only knew that they were somehow involved with the musical and that they were students at his school. The thought that he shouldn't even be in this place crossed his mind. It almost felt disrespectful to show up to a funeral for people that weren't exactly close to him. To be honest, the only reason he was even there was because he told Sophie he would.

He grabbed his phone and put it on silent and quickly shoved it back into his pocket. It wouldn't look good if he just randomly showed up and then all of a sudden started to play around on his phone. All he could really do was just quickly take a seat. He sat in the back, as far away from the caskets as possible. There was no way he could look at their dead bodies again. He had already gotten an up close look at them, there was no need to refresh that memory. It was still vivid in his mind, and no matter how hard he tries, it doesn't just go away. All he could really do now was wait for the service to start and for people to say some words for the departed.

Someone stepped up to the podium and started to speak. He introduced himself as Erik Winst, one of the teachers at Fortissimo. Erik spoke about an incident that had happened two years ago. An incident where there were more students who lost their lives. Even more tragedy. His speech continued, and even though his voice was steady and unwavering, the sadness was clear to see on his face. Then he mentioned how watching what happened must have been devastating. Boy did he get that right. Afterwards, he tried to give comforting words and give a smile, though that quickly faded away. When he was finished, he simply nodded, said thank you, and went back to his seat.

Sitting there, listening to Erik's speech made him feel even worse. They were good kids, and they just had to go and die like that. While it was true that he didn't know them very well, he couldn't help but feel sorry for them. He just sat there and waited for the next person to speak, wallowing in a heavy pit of sorrow.

 

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✿ OUTFIT | MUSIC | OOC |MOOD ↝ DO NOT CRY ✿​

✖ LOCATION ↝ FUNERAL HOME ✖​

The turquoise teen did NOT want to attend the funeral. She's been doing so well - at least, in the standards of that messed up head of hers - in keeping her tears from falling and not letting the pain in her system. This was going to tip the scale of sanity vs. insanity so drastically and she knew she wasn't going to be able to handle it. So why on earth was had she been outside of the room that held her best friend's body in a casket (in the cold for about an hour now, mind you)? Hell, she was making her way to said room now.

For one thing, her mother was still giving all attempts to feed her and running away seemed like a good option. She's also been asleep way too long now, she was already late for the funeral - and Richie would have probably already kicked her butt for that alone. Not going? Maybe he'd make her join the afterlife with him. Of course, this wasn't true - but it did give a little comfort thinking about what silly things Richie would say, but this hurt a lot too after a while. With nowhere else to run, she just decided to go. She knew she'd regret it if she didn't. She got dressed and grabbed the entire bottle of sleeping pills, her phone, some other things and car keys. She left home with out a word and drove to the funeral on her own - not caring, and actually liking the thought, of if her really awful driving skills would kill her on the way.

She didn't die. She parked badly and got out of the car. She was probably one of the first to arrive, she only caught a glimpse of Lucas as he entered the room. She was to follow in after him but she just couldn't and pretty much broke down internally from there. She stayed away from the door, locked up in her car for a moment. Seeing others arrive didn't help - seeing Ryder and his family was the worst.

Despite all that, here she was, with her hand over the door knob. She clutched the strap of the black bag she was using, knowing that the comfort of sleeping pills would be inside it. It could save her from all the madness and make her at peace. With one shaky breath, she finally entered.

"We will all miss each of them--Richie, Zach, Alex, and Seraphina. Even those that weren't that close to them are feeling it too. Watching what happened to them happen must have been devastating to those of you that were present. For those few..."

She could already feel her body shaking and her heart beating faster. She just had to enter as someone was giving a speech. No. No. Let the words become nothing but letters put together, audible by who was speaking. They were nothing. She just had to buzz them out and be there so Richie wouldn't kill her for not attending his funeral.

Another thing she ignored were the caskets ahead, she couldn't look at them. As well as Ryder and his sister and mother. She caught a glimpse of his blonde hair but couldn't look at their direction. She could still feel it all slowly build up inside of her and she wanted to bad to just terminate those inner demons. Her shaking hand dug into her bag, clutching the bottle of pills tightly. Maybe one could help her numb it out, but she was afraid she'd just pass out. She pressed her dark lips together and finally moved once more.

She carried her skinny limbs to one of the chairs, away from Ryder but closer to where Erik had sat. She didn't sit beside anyone though, she knew she wouldn't be able to find any words. She knew talking to anyone would probably put her back in that desperate state - which was probably a really high possibility of happening in a while. She could already feel her eyes watering as she stared down at her shoes quietly.

The back of her hand brushed across a piece of paper. she knew what it was. It was her favorite photograph of her and Richie. She wanted him to have it, but she couldn't even look at him. She'd have to look sometime though. Richie would kill her if she didn't. Say something like 'You're not even going to say hi to me at my funeral, sheesh, Elisa!' Plus, she had other things she wanted Richie to keep. Aside the photo, there were some cute stickers Richie would probably enjoy in the afterlife, a lookbook of one of Richie's favorite male models (she knew Richie would want a hit man beside him in his bed/casket), and a little bag of macaroons she cooked the other night. They were cute little kitten and puppy macaroons, not made just because her and Richie really enjoyed cooking things like these but mostly because she wanted Richie to get fat in the afterlife as karma for leaving her.


It was probably silly. All these presents for a dead guy, but she knew she wouldn't forgive herself if she wouldn't do it. Maybe she'll do it later - when everyone's gone. Besides, it was a more civil option than what Richie actually wanted in his funeral - which was a party to celebrate his happy, wonderful life and not to mourn his passing.

 

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<< IGNITE REVOLUTION >>​

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Torvald sat quietly, away from the other Fortissimo congregations, watching and listening with crossed legs. As he heard Erik's words drift through his ears, he felt his lip trembling ever so slightly. The December sun shone mercilessly on the back of his neck, with the hard, callous light that a sunny day in winter brought. It was a surreal brightness -- a sunny day in the midst of haunting cold and snowy chills, and yet even in the sun's unnatural light the people's shadows felt like long-dead corpses. Throngs of mourners sat hunched and quiet in their black vestments, and sprawled out in all directions from Torvald like the revolutionary, deceptive army of his dreams. But of course, today was different.

When taken past the shallow sense of mediocre fight or flight that charged his soul, he felt like a part of him had been missing. A regret, it bloomed like a delicate rose in the pits of his wrinkled heart, and its thorns bit into his chest. Whenever he would stand, or move, or even come across something that gave him remembrance of the faces of the four deceased comrades, the memories would relapse, the tide would wash, and for a fleeting moment in space and time he would feel breathless and drowning in the claws of despair. But just like that, his feet would feel the earth again and he would stand there, lifeless for a moment, before trying to continue on. This was not the first time, after all.

When Erik finished his spiel, Torvald stood and picked up the small bundle of blue roses that laid on the empty seats next to him. He walked through the aisle, avoiding the careful looks and weary masks that the other mourners wore, and stepped onto the podium.

The many mourners were looking down, some contemplating Erik's careful words, others considering the lives of the four deceased young revolutionaries. Torvald cleared his throat, and placed the roses in front of him on the stand, as he held its sides with a tight, deathly grip.

<< MY GLORIOUS REVOLUTIONARIES.

WE ARE HERE TODAY TO MOURN THE DERELICT EXPIRATION OF OUR COMRADES, BY THE BILLION SUNS THAT WILL DRIVE OUR FUTURE REVOLUTION. ONLY A FEW DAYS AGO DID I SEE AND CONTEMPLATE THE FACES OF THESE YOUTH THAT SERVED AS THE DRIVE TO DESTROY THE BOURGEOIS AND ALLOW THE PROLETARIAT TO RISE AND OVERCOME; REACHING A TRUE UTOPIA OF EGALITARIAN BEAUTY! >>

Torvald slammed the desk. The audience was silent in sheer horror.

<< THEY WERE THE FUTURE. THEY WERE WHAT WAS OURS AND WHAT HAS NOW BEEN LOST TO THE FORCES OF THE UNKNOWN AND THE INFINITE ENEMY THAT DRIVES AGAINST OUR STRUGGLES! IF WE ARE TO TRULY AVENGE THEIR DEATHS AND LEAD A GLORIOUS REVOLUTION, OF THE PEOPLE, THEN WE MUST MAKE SURE THAT THESE ENEMIES MAY BE BROUGHT TO JUSTICE! WE MUST TOPPLE THE SYSTEMS, THE INFRASTRUCTURE, AND ALL THAT HAS LED TO THE CORRUPTION AND DESTRUCTION OF THESE YOUTHS! >>

The audience looked at him like he was insane.
His heart fluttered.

<< AND THUS WE SHALL FIGHT THE ENEMY AND AVENGE OUR FALLEN COMRADES IN THE NAME OF THE REVOLUTION! IF WE ARE TRULY TO REACH A BEAUTIFUL PARADISE WE MUST BRING THOSE WHO HAVE AFFRONTED US AND ALL WE STAND FOR TO JUSTICE! WE MUST REDUCE CAPITALISM, THE BOURGEOISIE, AND THE ENSLAVEMENT OF THE WORKING CLASS BY THE INSTITUTIONS TO RUBBLE, AND ONLY THEN -- TRULY THEN -- WILL WE BE ABLE TO MOVE ON!!

...

That is what I would have said, if I were not fighting my own personal regrets with this. And I am sure all of you must be, too. >>
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<< CEASE REVOLUTION >>
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<< My name is Tannhauser, and I am a simple medical student who has seen too much. >>

His eyes gazed straight through the crowd, as if they were nonexistent. His voice became heavy and strained.
A sound, like fireworks, played in his head.

<< On the night of their deaths, I did something to the young boy Duvont that he hated me for with his last breath. We had finished a musical night, and I dare say that all four youths played splendid roles in our production. We visited the house of the incident for a celebration, where young Duvont broke through his inhibitions far too much. I simply stopped him from doing things that I feel he would regret, but these are my beliefs, and beliefs are really the only thing that exist in this world. >>

He paused.

<< That was the last time I saw him, and I realized that even in my attempt to protect these irresponsible rascals, I had failed. I had failed, again-->>

Torvald's voice drifted off briefly, as his eyes widened. But with a snap, he refocused them and continued.

<< For when I woke back up, I saw all four of them lying, dead, and amidst a cacophony of iridescent insanity. >>

Torvald looked around the crowd. He tapped his fingers on the stand.

<< That is my regret. It is one of my millions of regrets in my life, that I feel I can not take away.

And from my experiences abroad, I am certain all of you have also faced regrets in your life -- involved with our deceased, especially -- that you feel you can not take away.

This should not be so. We knew all four as chipper, wonderful people ...
I may have not known the four as personally as some of you have, but despite my constant lambasting at their acting performances, or sense of trying to stop their fun, they were like children or younger siblings, many of them. This is why, for their sake, we should remember not to let our regrets bog us down. We should remember the lives of kindness and whimsy they did have, and how they brought light and justice to our own lives, is that not so? They would not wish for us to revile our lives in depression. We must live, for them.
There is a fundamental aspect of medical biology that is thus. We can eliminate viruses, bacteria, or-- or any such point down to its most fundamental basics. Its individual atoms of carbon, or nitrogen, or oxygen. And these are sent away, their, their physical forms. These fundamental substances cannot be eliminated truly, however, for they build up the universe. And in the same way, though these children pass on their physical forms, they have left with us a fundamental substance that has driven and influenced all of our lives; an-- an influence we see today with everyone present. >>

Throughout the speech, his fingers began to tremble, and Torvald found it harder to hold back the buffeting sighs of sadness that struck his heart. It was a sadness of distance; not the torrent, or wave of emotions that came with losing one close, but the hard winds that made the stomach churn upon realizing the death when you had already seen too much of it.

<< They are in a better place in this universe. We will find justice, and we will fight the enemies till they-- they may not stand. But that is not your role. Your role in our revolution is to remember the contributions that our friends have made, and to never forget. And, of course, to live as they had lived. >>

Torvald walked away from the podium, picking up his roses. He carefully placed one of each on the four caskets, stopping in front of Richie a bit longer for a brief moment, before resting the final blue rose on him. His large form slowly walked away from the caskets, head held down, lifeless, defeated, angry, and disappearing into the faceless masses.

It was not their role to find justice, but it would be his, at the very least.

 

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♔: ♠ « MUSIC ♠ « WEARING ♠ « ✉ 0 ♠ « ooc ♠ :♔​

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he finished scanning over the memorial before reading the message. Pierce. His head lifted just as Erik was walking up on stage and he searched the room for her, finding her on the other side. His nose crinkled up a bit at how far she was but he simply slouched further into his seat and texted back.

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Message From: Pierce​

hey, are you okay​

over there?​

Message To: Pierce​

I'm fine. ... Are you alright? Are you going to the party?​

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He stopped himself from asking why she had sat so far away, or mentioning his extreme angst at the situation. Instead, he turned his attention back up to Erik right as he finished. The clear sobbing from the families was gut wrenching and he found himself anxious to get the hell out of here as soon as it was over. Trovald stepped up and Oliver couldn't help but wonder why neither Sophie nor Lucas were up there. ​

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He listened politely [ though he found himself tuning out every so often, wondering what had happened to Trovald to make him this way ] but then his speech changed and he seemed ... normal? It depressed Oliver more ... He was biting his lip when the speech ended, and watched silently as tearful family members began to move up to the front ...​

♔​

timeskip: party time​

Oliver wasn't going to the party. Too sad, too angry. Instead, he decided to start moving himself back to his apartment with Reed. The stay at his uncle's had done him a lot of good, but if he was planning on ever getting out of his dependent funk, it was time to go. His car was reloaded with his things once he arrived, and he had a small chat with his uncle before finally heading out. ​

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Reed wasn't home so there was no interrogation to endure. A meal was made and eaten alone, and then he found himself in bed staring up at the ceiling. He thought about logging on to see if Mary was around but didn't. Technically they were still 'together' after all, but she hadn't made an effort to text so why should he check on her? ​

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{ m u s i c }​

[ one flew over the cuckoo's nest ]​

Spoiler

dear diary.
dec 30 20XX

i am not leaving my room. i refuse to! why should i leave my room after the travesty that has befallen me and the others? what reason is there? there is no reason! i never wanted this. ayanna gave me this diary today. it is the only place i can speak my mind by my own words. and it will always be the only place. bec

the st







she took away my tablet because i am searching up suicidal things on the search engines. that is a lie. ayanna is foolish to believe i would be doing something like that. i am not crazy or an imbecile.

i only have my books today. i always only have my books. but she said she would give me back my tablet later. i have no laptop. i am disconnected, and that is what i like to be.

i don't care. ayanna.
let me write in peace. there is no point for proper grammar when

ad


ayanna gave me a new book today. i did not want to look at it so i threw it to the floor with my other hard copies.
the blankets keep falling to the floor.

the clock keeps ticking and it bothers me. make it go away. i don't have anything interesting to say. i never do. it's been hours.
i don't know where ayanna is.

the funeral was today, lucas called in.
he doesn't care about me. why should i care about him or then? i never wanted this.

i never wanted it.

i never wanted it
i never wanted it

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『WEATHER』 ICY, COLD 32°! ✖『DATE & TIME』 12/31/2015 - UH... PM ✖『DAY』 11​

Hospitals were always oddly comforting to her. Seeing people she looked admitted was never fun, of course, but she didn't think about all of the death and pain that was associated with the building. She thought about the nurses and doctors who had devoted their lives to healing and all of the medications and treatments meant to help the sick and injured. She felt comfortable there, in the warm, white halls. ​

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For a moment, she thought that maybe she should try and become a doctor or a nurse. Then she remembered how attached she became to people. It ... wouldn't be a good idea. ​

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The long hall stretched out to an elevator, where she road to a higher floor. Julius' room would be down the hall, around the corner and to her right, if she remembered correctly. Each step that brought her closer to his hospital room increased the pressure she was feeling against her chest. She was nervous, which was strange, because it wasn't as if she was afraid of Julius or anything, and she had just seen him. Coming to see him alone after all that had happened ... ​

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It would do her well to see him. To really get a chance to talk to him, especially about moving. It was better than going to that party at least. She had a bad feeling ... She wondered if Bryan would go. ​

❝Knock, knock?❞​

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The tone of her voice was soft and tentative. She didn't want to wake Julius up if he was sleeping, but that proved useless when she noticed him rousing as soon as she closed the door behind her. When she entered the hospital room, the steady beeping of the heart monitor calmed her nerves. She took a seat at Professor Julius' bed side and place her bag in her lap.
❝Sorry ... How are you feeling?❞ ​

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His time in the hospital was dull and boring and with his weakened state and lack of options to do anything, Julius could only merely sleep his day away and let the wounds heal before he would soon enough have to leave the hospital. Though Julius tended to oversleep he was usually a light sleeper, so when he heard the voice of Noelle and heard the door shut he slowly began to awaken from his slumber.

As his finger twitched Julius' eye slowly opened up and soon enough the man let out a yawn before turning his head over to Noelle with a smile "Ah, Noelle...good to see you. No need to apologies" Julius said as he sat up but immediately cringed at the fast movement "guhhh....sitting around ans staying still....such a hard task for me" Julius said letting out a small chuckle "But regardless I'm doing fine and my wounds are starting to feel much better" Julius said giving the girl a reassuring smile.

"Nonetheless, how have you been Noelle? sorry for not being able to answer your call that one time...you know...accident and all...hope it wasn't anything important" Julius said closing his eyes with a sigh. When he thought about it the call was made during the night of the party and though the deaths happened in the morning he still hoped the girl wasn't really in need of him when she made that call, otherwise he would have been even more pissed off at himself.

 

『WEATHER』 CLOUDY, COLD 31°! ✖『DATE & TIME』 12/31/2015 - 8 somethin PM ✖『DAY』 11​

❝Ah, Noelle...good to see you. No need to apologize!❞ She smiled, loosening up a bit more, but the smile weakened when she watched him try and sit up. This was awful. ❝guhhh....sitting around ans staying still....such a hard task for me. But regardless I'm doing fine and my wounds are starting to feel much better.❞

❝That's good ...❞ Noëlle's voice trailed off a bit and she looked down at her hands, fidgeting in thought.

❝Nonetheless, how have you been Noelle? sorry for not being able to answer your call that one time...you know...accident and all...hope it wasn't anything important.❞

Her head lifted. She had called him, hadn't hadn't she? She had nearly forgotten about that night ... about her leaving the party ... if she hadn't ...

A hand lifted to her mouth and she masked a gag with a cough, several 'what-if' scenarios running through her head, and then the enormous weight of guilt falling down onto her for not attending the victims funerals.

❝I've been ...❞ Lie. Lie. LIE! Liiiie! Her head shook and red strands of hair whipped against her flushed cheeks lightly. When did it get so hard to talk to people? She used to be so good at it! Well, good enough! Finally, she sighed out heavily and leaned back in her chair. ❝I've been stressed. Worried. Today was the funeral. I don't know if you know about that ... I just feel like two years ago is about to repeat itself.❞

It sounded silly coming out of her mouth, but she had already revved herself up. In case he didn't know, she made sure to recap what she had heard about the Bennett incident.

❝They're dead and nobody really seems to care! There's even a party tonight -- I'm not going but, you know. Nobody knows how they died, either. It's just scary. I want to get out of this town and away from these people!❞

She was shaking.

❝I just feel like I'm going to ... die. If not me, Bryan. If not him, you. I just want to get out of here ...❞

 

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The funeral had been hard. Maria had thought it would be disrespectful to wear sunglasses during the service, so she had just layered on a think amount of foundation. It wasn't too hard to cover the bruises. They were mostly faded now, just faint yellow and orange splotches on her face. She wore her thick glasses and sat in the back. When Torvald had gone up, she sucked in a sharp breath. He started out ridiculous as ever, but then...--Torvald sounded like an actual human being, not just a communistic robot.

When everything was completely over, she headed home, not sticking around at the reception for very long. There were a lot of people that didn't feel comfortable coming to her party which was understandable. For those that were coming, she had repeated numerous times that it was at eight. It was like no one knew how to read a text message. Sheesh. The party wasn't going to be some big drunk fest like most New Year's Eve parties were. If things were different, then it might have leaned that way, but not tonight. She just wanted everyone to be able to breathe. Things had been so constricting this week and with the funeral on the same day as a major holiday eve, they needed a night to unwind.

Maria stood in the kitchen of her familial home, wearing an apron over her dress. She made up some snacks for everyone and wiped her hands on the apron. A lock of hair fell in her face and she tucked it behind her ear. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying during the funeral and was thankful for wearing waterproof makeup today. Everyone would be here soon. Maria hung the apron up on the hook in the kitchen and pulled out a stack of glasses and plates. She arranged the snacks neatly on the kitchen counter and set out napkins and flatware beside it. Her footsteps were light as she walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a large pitcher of mixed sweet tea and lemonade to place on the counter as well. Her blue eyes drifted to the living room. It was attached to the dining area. She double checked things in the kitchen before walking to the living room.

Her knees touched the ground as she knelt to pull a stack of DVDs out of the entertainment center. She set them on top of the wooden fixture and dimmed the lights in the living room. It would be a night to relax. Maria grabbed the funniest movies she could find in the cupboard. There were a a few boardgames set up on the coffee table and soft jazz music played from the speaker system. Everything was about as ready as it could be. She sat down on the gray couch and swallowed nervously in her empty house. There was a lump in her throat and her heart beat began to quicken. She felt sick. Maria rubbed her forehead and rested her head in her hands. Nobody would probably even show up.

✜ Wearing ❖ Music ❖ Date: 12/31/2015 ❖ Day: 11 & 2/4 ✜​

✜ Mood: Anxious ❖ Interaction: ✘ ❖ Location: Family Home ✜​

✜ ❤: Tucker ❖ Activity: ✘ ❖ OOC: ✘ ✜​

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WEARING ⧉ DATE▹ 12/31/2015 ⧉ DAY▹ 11 & 2/4 ⧉ MUSIC​

MOOD▹ . . . . ⧉ LOCATION▹ HOME​

OOC▹ ✘ ⧉ INTERACTION▹ ✘ ⧉ ❤▹ 0/10​

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Pierce had gone home alone. Sophie was going to the party with Freddie. She had her mom pick her up from the reception, having rode to the funeral with Sophie. She just couldn't bring herself to go. Pierce laid on her bed, still in the funeral clothes. There was an open bottle of rum on the nightstand that she had found in her mother's alcohol drawer--apparently she restocked. Her face was flushed and her whole body felt really warm. There was a tingling sensation that ran up and down her body. She only did this when she was alone; a closet drinker. She sighed and picked up her phone. It slipped out of her hand for a second and she snatched it off the bed. Pierce rolled over onto her stomach. The television was on, but she didn't hear what was being said. There was cop show on or something, she really didn't know.

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Her mind was cloudy from the straight liquor and her thoughts swam with the ideas of what might happen the next two days. She was going to the spa with Sophie tomorrow and ice skating again with Oliver the next day. Oliver. She smiled at the thought of him. He was really nice to her and seemed to be trying to make her feel comfortable, even if he did keep avoiding her at the same time. Then again, she was also avoiding seeing him in person. It was just so overwhelming. Blood pounded in her ears and she opened the text thread she had with him. She scrolled through it, reading over the old messages before coming to the most recent ones. He wasn't going to the party. There was a swelling of relief that flooded out of her. Something about him and Sophie both being at a party that she wasn't attending didn't sit well in her stomach.​

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Nope. That wasn't what didn't sit well. Her hand flew to her mouth and she lunged herself off the bed, falling clumsily to the ground while doing so. Pierce stumbled to her feet and rushed to the bathroom. She grabbed the rim of the recently cleaned toilet and threw up. Her mouth tasted acidic and bile spewed out of her. That was cute. She flushed the toilet and brushed her teeth. Fortunately none of it got on her dress. She ran her hands down the front of it and smoothed out the wrinkles before returning to her bedroom. She felt like crap. Pierce kind of wanted someone to take care of her. Her body flopped down onto the bed and she picked up the phone. Maybe it was the quarter liter of rum she had already drank or the scary sense of doom waiting up ahead, but she was feeling a little uncharacteristically brazen.​

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