Amos Roxburg, carriage, Cemetery, CharlotteCarrendar, collaboration, Elvira, Four weddings and a funeral, funeral, Lord Amos Roxburg, role play., Rosas Spinis, sadness, Service Juliette, sorrow, writing
The Death of Amos Roxburg has will leave an unmendable scar on the foundation of the supernatural community in Victorian London. The balance has been unsettled, and nothing is certain any longer as new realizations come to play every hour it seems. Without the head of the Demonic family, things are sure to only worsen for the community as a whole. Though many are to think of this as an end, it is but the true beginning, to a story that has yet to be written.
The day began with dark storm clouds that stretched across the city bringing with it a somber atmosphere. This would have an affect on many that were to attend the funeral of Lord Amos Roxburg; head of the Roxburg family as well as the Demonic leader of the Underworld. News had been spread by way of news media such as newspapers and by the idle gossip of the tea houses and Men’s clubs far and wide. The sheer size of the scandal from the Count’s masked ball, had intrigued and captivated the imaginations of the public and those close to the families at the center of the scandal.
And so the procession of those in black carriages, along with others that walked through the puddles and mud, made their way to the cemetery, where they would all converge on the site where the empty casket of Amos would be lowered into the earth.
Representing the Roxburgs, Bartholomew and Fanny, along with Lurch, would be some of the first to arrive. In a carriage drawn by four horse, they pulled up outside the large iron gates, and Lurch was first out, to help Fanny exit the carriage, as Bart spoke to the funeral directors. They had expected a very large turn out, so it was important that the carriages kept moving on forward, to allow others to disembark at the main gate. Fanny was dressed from head to foot in a custom made black gown, that was buttoned right up to the neck. Her hat had a spider webbing like veil, that covered most of her face from view, and in her hand, she had a small drawstring purse, that she kept her kerchiefs and compact in. She stood to the side of the gate with Lurch, and waited for the rest of the Roxburgs to arrive, so that they may walk together into the cemetery grounds.
The Count had been sensative to Elvira’s moods since he arrived at the manor the morning of her father’s funeral. He kept a close presence to her as Sally helped her to get ready. Elvira hadn’t spoken but a few words, mostly to the staff, and requesting Sally’s presence at her side to attend the ceremony.
Once they were set to go, he escorted both women to the carriage waiting out front, directing the coachman to the cemetary. Elvira remained silent, but did not refuse The Count when he wrapped her into his arms. She shed no tears, for she had shed all she had the night her father died.
The carriage pulled up to the gates and The Count stepped out, holding aloft an umbrella as he escorted first Sally, then Elvira from within. Elvira, not one for tradition, had gone with a full length black gown with silver plating along the front, sides and back. She wore no veil, but there was a silver clasp in her hair with their family crest upon it.
The Count held out his arm for her to take as he led both women through the gates after Bart, Fanny and Lurch.
The carriage jolted slightly as they rode down the long winding path from the Church to the graveyard. It was a black boxy thing with Blue doors and golden handles. The being at the front was merely an apparition Bess had created, the horses were glamoured war horses that she had brought from hell itself. Sitting within the carriage, Bess and her youngest Daughter sat in silence. Bess was staring out of the small glass window to her left, a long veil of netted chiffon covered her face. From head to toe she was dressed in black, her skirts had been ripped by Bess herself as a sign of mourning for her lost love.
In truth, this had been the first day Bess had been properly dressed since that faithful night. She had spent her days crying and sleeping within her and Amos’ bedchambers. Bess had been sleeping on his side of the bed….his scent was still clinging to the sheets, even this morning and she had allowed no one into the room…no one but Alice, and that wasn’t until this morning. It was her youngest that talked her into coming along, her other children had wisely left her to her grief. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t deny her daughter. So she had washed, dress and had the smaller, less gaudy carriage set up to bring them to the funeral. She knew fine rightly that Amos would have scolded her for shutting herself away like that…but it couldn’t be helped. He had been with her since the start, hundreds of years had passed…and now there was nothing. That light that she had felt burning in her chest had been extinguished.
Bess felt bitter tears begin to roll down her cheeks. Reaching up under her veil she wiped them away with a gloved hand. A woman may weep she told herself but not a mother…i can be strong, i will be. It was time Bess stood up to the plate, as much as she simply wanted to return home and cry..she would not…she would be there for her children. As the carriage pulled to a stop Bess glanced to Alice “Are you ready my love?” she asked gently, lifting her veil out of the way for a moment so she was looking directly at her daughter.
Levi Bianchi chose to ride alone to the funeral. He had somehow managed to convince Phoebe to stay behind only with the threat that Juliette would no doubt come to pay her respects to her father. Such an idea of seeing the horrible woman was enough to make the young woman stay behind. As the carriage came to a halt in front of the cemetery, Levi stepped out, and looked around grimly. The fact that evil had stuck against evil meant that something more sinister and detrimental was at hand. This would only mean a war of epic proportions. Seeing Bart so distraught in the presence of angels could only mean that these were desperate times for not only angels, but for the demons as well. Would there be an alliance between the races? Shaking these thoughts from his mind to clear it from all but feelings of remorse at the loss of such an important figurehead, Levi face looked tight and pained as he stepped towards Amos’ casket. He had passed Bess as well as the Roxburg siblings, but he had not the words to say to ease their pain. In his own hand was a white rose, something he hoped the demons would not take offense to. Though Amos was a demon, he had been loved and Levi wished him a safe passing to his next life. Clutching the rose, he didn’t care that the thorns ripped into the skin on his hands as he looked at the ground. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he grieved for the world’s future without Amos.
Juliette stood off to the side by a tree near the casket that would soon be placed in the family mausoleum. She was absolutely conflicted as she watched person after person arrive at the funeral. No one would see her just yet for she was hidden by an invisible cloak that had been given to her by Lillith. Though she didn’t see the reason to be here, Lillith assured Juliette that she ought to pay respect for the man even if he was no longer family. What Lillith really wanted was a pair of eyes to watch over the funeral while she was off recovering from her wounds. As she stood there silently, a tear rolled down her cheek. This was a surprise. When her father fell, she felt nothing but spite for him, as the demon of spite would. They all treated her like she was no more than horse shite, and now she felt grief? It both enraged and tore her apart. Though her father was harsh and cruel at times, he also was her daddy. He was the only picture of what a true man should be. Now he was gone and she did nothing to stop it. What was happening to her? Though her mind wanted her to give into the evil that now surrounded her, her heart wanted nothing more than to fling herself at the mercy of her siblings so they would tear her apart and give her the peace of dying as well. Juliette did not deserve to live while her father died. The longer she lived, the longer the world spun out of control. Turning away, she murmured softly but loud enough to be carried on the wind “I once loved you all…”
Esmeralda walked slowly towards the Roxbury family, a knowing look on her face as she soon stood before Elvira. Reaching out, she grabbed Elvira’s hand and placed it to her heart. Looking deep into the succubus’ eyes, she murmured in her thick accent “You grieve for one that is still with us…” Leaving that hang in the air, she turned to offer a gentle smile to the count. Picking up her black skirts, she then walked over to the front row of chairs in front of the casket and took a seat. Crossing her legs, she smiled mysteriously. There was a war at hand, and with war came strife…death…and a plague. As though she were thinking of some private joke, she held a hand to her lips to stifle her laughter while sitting among those that were grieving. If only they knew.
Alice had been gazing out the window, leaving the two in silence. She was dressed in a simple black gown with her hair braided across the back of her head and to the side, a black ribbon securing the single plait. She’d rejected every other dress and hair arrangement. None had seemed fitting. None had seemed right. All morning, and every day since that night, she’d longed for her father to emerge form a closet with a smile on his face and ask them if his plan had worked. Ask them if Lillith believed him to be dead, when really he was there all along, never to leave again. She’d tried to remain calm, collected, stoic for her siblings and mother, but today, it was as if her loss truly dawned on her. She feared if she spoke, sorrow and anger would overcome her once more, and no one short of her immediate family would be safe at this funeral. Funeral. That’s what it was. For her father. Her father, who had been killed by his own in-law. Alice’s grandmother. When her mother spoke, she turned to look at her, her thought’s plain and simple, and clear in her eyes. “I was not ready, I will never be ready… for this. But I will act ready for you, mother.” She tilted her head to the side slightly, reaching to take her hand. She was trying to be less needy, less… herself. The last thing the family needed was for her to be running around tormenting people or making snarky comments. In truth, her father’s death had diminished the appeal in those things.
The nights have since passed the day of his dissappearance, and yet, he felt as though none had. His mind had become quite solemn, in that, he was not who he once was. He was now a beast, an animal, a cur. His eyes, held in shadows, focused on the group gathering to give their farewells to the head of the Roxburg household. So much death, so much change has occurred, and yet, he hardly felt any different. After all, his single purpose to live was still around. Though he hadn’t seen her, heard her voice, felt the silky of her flesh against his rough fingertips, which have had the lives of countless people sewn into them over the last week, he could feel within his very soul, that his Juliette still lived. That she still fought, and whether she liked it or not, she’d see her Romeo once more, whether it be this day, or the next. One would only hope his new scent would not drive her away.
Though his mind and focus stayed with his beloved, and the need to hold her once again in his sight, he was also there to pay his respects, as much as to find the man that had done this to him. Though Amos was no fan of him, he allowed him to stay. He gave him a home from the cold of the streets, a place to live and cal his own. For this, Edward would forever be grateful. For this, he pays his respects to the great leader, figurehead, idol to many, and father. Though Juliette may disagree, even Edward could see the love he held for her. Though his eyes held dissappointment when he looked upon her, a father can only be disappointed in that which he loves. Else, he would care less. As he thought on this, he allowed a short grin to cover his lips, and his eyes fell to his feet as his body leaned against a pillar of stone. “If only I could’ve shown her, convinced her of the truth I saw…maybe this would’ve never come to pass.” Truth was, Edward blamed himself. His confidence was always low in that aspect. His eyes lifted again to find the casket as people began to approach it. “I will honor your memory. She will not come to harm as long as I live.” A gust of wind blew suddenly, and brushed gently across Edward’s ear. Within the wind, he heard a voice. “Thank you….” it was soft, and damn lower than a whisper, but Edward heard it as clear as day, and would recognize the voice anywhere. Amos.
Juliette turned at the sound of a familiar voice, her heartbeat speeding up in anticipation. It had been days since she had seen Edward, and the last she heard of him was when Amos said he was attacked. Whipping around, she saw her lover looking at his feet in despair and her body ached for him. She wanted nothing more than to rush over and pull him into the safety of her embrace. He was alive! Edward looked completely unscathed and she could not believe he stood before her seemingly fine. And yet…something was off with him. Stepping closer under her invisible cloak, her nostrils flared as she inhaled his new scent. To her, he smelled woodsy, spicy, and had a hint of a manly musk. The scent was delicious to her. A purr emanated from her throat as she allowed herself to boldly remove her mask of invisibility. Now she stood in clear view of all the funeral party to look Edward in the eyes. Tears prickled her eyes as it dawned on her why his scent changed, why he appeared to be without any wounds from the attack. A wolf must have attacked him, and he had changed from her human blood doll into a werewolf. Closing her eyes, she let one tear fall as she prayed he would not blame her for such a drastic change to his life. Opening them slowly, she had heard his words to her father, but knew not what they meant. Did he blame himself for what she had become..?
Walking up to Edward, her petite body pressed against him as she reached up to hold his face with both of her hands. Tilting his head down so she could meet his eyes, she smiled softly as her face was covered in true adoration. Only Edward could quell the beast inside of her, only this man before her could return her to the true woman she wanted to be. Her voice was so soft and tender as she spoke “Edward…you’re alive. I thought you were dead. You did not come to me after the ball.” Hurt and sadness caught in her throat and she leaned even closer into his tall form as though she were trying to crawl into his own skin. Her arms fell to wrap around his waist, her face burying into his chest. Exhaling low and steady as though she had been holding her breath for years, she smiled softly. She was safe, and she was home. Suddenly the evil schemes Lillith had didn’t matter. Only this moment with the man she thought was dead did. Finally pulling away to look into his eyes, she whispered “Will you ever forgive me for leaving you?” As she waited for an answer, she inhaled his scent once more and purred “God, you smell delicious…tell me you have claimed no one as your mate…” Her fangs elongated involuntarily as her body craved the taste of his blood. Her hands slipped down to grip his arse and she smiled. She wanted him. As she leaned up on her toes to kiss him, she blinked and remembered where she was, why she was there. Her father. As her necklace glowed a heavenly white to reveal her demon was trapped by Edward’s presence and love, she whipped around and a hand flew to her mouth. Amos was dead and she did nothing. Falling to her knees, all the tears and feelings her demon had held back since the death of the Roxburg leader came rushing out. She began to sob pitifully, her arms wrapping around her body as her body shook on the ground from the weight of her raw emotions.