thirty-four ➢ voice + spam

[patheticvillain]

Czeslaw's gone. His door and everything is blank.

. . . I don't really think he made many friends while he was here, but. I'm going to light a candle for him, if anybody wants to join me.

spam } chapel

[It's quiet and still in here, which is good; it matches how Cassel is feeling. Quiet and still, like a windless world. He doesn't know what to make of this reaction. He can feel himself grieving, but it's muted, as though muffled by layers and layers of cloth.]

[With aching fingers he carves Czeslaw's name into a white candle, uses his lighter to light it. After a moment of watching the flame, he carves another name - Slevin's - into another candle, and Daneca's into a third, and hopes (doesn't pray) that they wake.]

Comments

private

[routemistress]

Too right. It hurt to touch him. I'd have almost fed myself to him willingly to make it stop, that time.

It's pointless to try and tell you not to blame yourself or feel like you failed, even though the time you had was impossible to have succeeded in, so I won't. But I do think you eased the fear a little.

private

[patheticvillain]

I think I did. I hope I did.

He wouldn't admit to being afraid but then I wouldn't either.

private

[routemistress]

[A thinly-coded message if she ever saw one, Iris thinks, and she allows herself briefly to explore the heavy sadness of her own losses.]

No.

Let me know if there's ever anything I can do, sweetheart. <3 <3

[But only briefly. It's meant; it's there if he ever chooses to pick it up. Meanwhile, she'll go back to doing what she does best: moving on.]

private

[patheticvillain]

I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about Czeslaw, and how I didn't do enough for him.

But I'll let you know.

private

[routemistress]

You hardly had a chance to. I'm sorry, love.