Jean Kirstein (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
openterrain) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trustfell2016-01-01 10:47 pm
openterrain) wrote in trustfell2016-01-01 10:47 pm
SENDOFF.
[ Does it ever stop?
Maybe not, but Jean doesn't actually have an issue with that. The immediately visible zombies have been taken care of and the group is ready for any others that might shamble their way. It's still the dead of the night as Jean moves about the town square, gathering up every last bit of dry wood he can find and building up the basis of what could become an impressive bonfire. Strangely, he leaves it unlit - or perhaps not so strangely, since it really should be time to move on.
Instead, Jean goes back - back into the school and through the hallways and down to the courtroom. He makes several side trips as he goes, gathering up rope and matches and spare blankets along the way. He's not particularly surprised to see that Kimblee's corpse has been a bit abused since they last left him, nor is he depressed or angry or pleased.
Kimblee got what he deserved.
Jean takes the time to carefully wrap Kimblee's corpse in the spare sheets and secure them with rope, more out of consideration for the more squeamish of his fellow survivors than any respect for Observant himself. Wrapping him up is pretty simple, luckily. Dragging him back up the stairs and all the way over to the bonfire is simple, but not easy. He's a big, heavy bastard as it turns out and the very first hints of dawn are glimmering on horizon by the time Jean finally gets him over to the bonfire. Unsurprisingly, Jean will happily accept any offers to help with the body moving process.
There's no pomp or ceremony to Kimblee's 'funeral'. There's no moment of silence, no carefully selected works, not even a few personal possessions tossed onto the pyre with their tormentor of the past two months. Jean simply kindles a few sparks at the base of pyre, and then steps back to watch the flames grow into a blaze and consume flesh and wood alike.
... He does take care to stand upwind of the pyre, however. Burning bodies aren't exactly a pleasant scent. ]
Maybe not, but Jean doesn't actually have an issue with that. The immediately visible zombies have been taken care of and the group is ready for any others that might shamble their way. It's still the dead of the night as Jean moves about the town square, gathering up every last bit of dry wood he can find and building up the basis of what could become an impressive bonfire. Strangely, he leaves it unlit - or perhaps not so strangely, since it really should be time to move on.
Instead, Jean goes back - back into the school and through the hallways and down to the courtroom. He makes several side trips as he goes, gathering up rope and matches and spare blankets along the way. He's not particularly surprised to see that Kimblee's corpse has been a bit abused since they last left him, nor is he depressed or angry or pleased.
Kimblee got what he deserved.
Jean takes the time to carefully wrap Kimblee's corpse in the spare sheets and secure them with rope, more out of consideration for the more squeamish of his fellow survivors than any respect for Observant himself. Wrapping him up is pretty simple, luckily. Dragging him back up the stairs and all the way over to the bonfire is simple, but not easy. He's a big, heavy bastard as it turns out and the very first hints of dawn are glimmering on horizon by the time Jean finally gets him over to the bonfire. Unsurprisingly, Jean will happily accept any offers to help with the body moving process.
There's no pomp or ceremony to Kimblee's 'funeral'. There's no moment of silence, no carefully selected works, not even a few personal possessions tossed onto the pyre with their tormentor of the past two months. Jean simply kindles a few sparks at the base of pyre, and then steps back to watch the flames grow into a blaze and consume flesh and wood alike.
... He does take care to stand upwind of the pyre, however. Burning bodies aren't exactly a pleasant scent. ]
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[She supposes she must have made some other friends, but she literally doesn't remember the first thing about them. They may as well not exist.]
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I'm sorry. Losing a friend, especially if they cared about you, is always hard.
[And she also forgot that not everyone had the full extent of their memories returned. She could certainly sympathize; there may be things Rakka will never remember again.]
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Well...she'd been sick for a while. Even before I met her, you know? She held out a lot longer than we thought she might...
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Sick? You mean with a fever, or something? [Well, Rakka's collective knowledge of the world now gave her... at least an inkling of understanding what Susan meant by that. It could mean many things, all of them bad.]
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It was a bit worse than that.
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Oh, alright. I think... I understand.
[She does, in more words then that. But Susan didn't exactly look up to talking about it either.]
...At least you can still remember her? [She hopes that's a good thing.]
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...Mmgh...]
Maybe... we can help you find the rest of your memories.
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Mostly, Rakka just didn't want to see her friends dealing with the same thing she did.]
So many universes... maybe my memories are out there, too.
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[Susan doesn't know how, but there's obviously magic out there.]
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Still, she seemed reserved for a brief moment. Her eyes weren't looking at the bonfire anymore.]
...But, maybe I'm just not meant to know them? I guess a part of becoming a Haibane means I need to move on from that. [Her hand clenched noticeably, but it wasn't in anger or fear.] I already know... that someone cared about me.