genessia | What's that light in the forest?

Entry tags:

What's that light in the forest?

Who; Dorian Pavus and Cassian Lynch
What; What's a little late night cemetery scouring between friends?
Where; Cassian's sub-archway
When; June 28th, Early morning (like 2am)
Warnings; Talk of death, murder, and other triggery things?

After the spirit attack, things hadn't taken all too long to get back in order. The guardians, as they called themselves, proved to be rather skilled at such things. Funny, it was as though they'd dealt with similar situations in the past. Still, it'd given him a bit of perspective on this place that they were forced to call home, and that was simply it wasn't nearly as safe as it seemed. Big surprise there.

The relative calm after the storm gave him time to get back to work, and Cassian's, well, resurrection allowed him to continue his work. He'd picked up a stop watch in Genessia at, well, some point he didn't really feel was important which alerted him he'd worked back midnight. Again.

A yawn lead him to cleaning up and shutting down, gathering his things and heading out, only to be distracted by a light, quite like a lamp, off in the mist-shrouded forest. Curiosity getting the better of him, he headed in that direction, only to hear what sounded like a shovel in soft earth before the cemetery came into view. He pulled his rune-carved staff from his back, reaching out with his mage senses in case a spell or two were needed.

And then he cleared his throat.

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And what ghoulish, morally corrupt, depraved lunatic was out in the ancient graveyard in Cassian's subgate, busily evacuating a two hundred year old grave of a woman long dead from tuberculosis?

A dirt streaked, ash colored head and shoulders popped out, coarse white hair stained with mud and his expression rather quaintly annoyed considering he was standing six feet down in an open grave atop a half opened rotting coffin.

"... Aye, yes, d'ye need a permission slip to go home?"

Cassian no.

"Cassian?" He'll just choose to...overlook the commentary. He's too busy grimacing at how disgusting the small man's actions were, and how filthy he was, and how muddy the grave was, and how the woman on whose coffin he currently stood deserved much more respect that she was currently being shown. And by a priest, no less. He didn't pretend to understand much about this God of Earth's, but honestly.

"What in Andraste's name are you doing down there?"

"Work."

Yeah he's pretty used to that face and that reaction. Usually it came with more police but-

"She's been buried here for the past two hundred years and I'm checkin' to see where she's at."

Cassian no.

"I figured the lime content in the soil would have kicked in a bit of preservation or such, but it looks like the fat didn't solidify at all."

A skeleton, is what he was getting at was in that coffin.

"Soil's too damp for your average mummy too, tisn't any bogs about the area for a proper bog body either."

"A bog...body?" Dorian comes from an arid, hot land and only recently learned what a bog is. "You know what? I don't want to know what happens to a corpse in a bog."

Wait. He knows what happens to a corpse in a bog. He's seen it. Alleyana's favorite little pet.

"You reek, and it's past midnight. Come up for there, for Maker's sake. It could have, I don't know, diseases or something."

"Doesn't, tis been two hundred years in the moist damp earth, all soft tissue's been turned to a fine meat slurry and sunk into the earth decades ago.

Just right bones and some old jewelry at this point. I ain't gettin' sick because of rollin' around in some mud and I ain't comin' out what until I'm done down here."

FIGHT HIM.

"If there's nothing left of the corpse, there's no reason to stay in a stinking hole."

He holsters his staff into the holster strapped to his back and crosses his arms, frowning slightly at the sinking feeling his boots were making in the muck. His soft leather boots. Damn this forest. Damn this mist, and damn this annoying little man.

"Unless you mean to demean yourself by stealing from the dead."

"Plenty of reasons to stay in a stinkin' hole, still have to see if there was any issues with her bones, find if she broke anythin' while she was alive, see if I can identify any stuntin' of growth or anomalies in bone structure-"

And he's going to start rooting around the bones again, careful of course, but he's still gonna touch 'em.

"Take a sample what to see if she had a baby before she died, there'll be differences in calcium level from a woman who's not given birth, check and see if she was under nourished, look for genetic differences between then and now-"

No really please stop this.

"And why do you need to know these things about a woman who has been dead for two hundred years? At least?"

He breathes a sigh. "Have you eaten? I, for one, have not. Come out of there, clean yourself up, as to the best of your abilities, and come have a bite with me, then."

Seriously, Cassian. I like you, and this is...you sound a bit mad.

"Because I find it a lot more interestin' and worth my time than the political dog and pony show on the telly that's why."

He's in this grave because he's mad, come down here and fight him.

"Where are ye plannin' on eatin'? My house, yours or some public place? I'll not be shillin' out me money for food I can cook at home."

Cassian you can barely cook.

"I'm buying, but only if you bathe. And come out of there. I wager she'll wait for you."

For the first time in over two years, Dorian has a lot of money. He works full time for you, and as an instructor at Fairy Tail. Yeah, he doesn't really sleep much.

"There are other things on the...telly did you call it?"

"Fine."

The shovel is hurled out first, followed shortly by the man himself, hauling himself out of the grave with only a few short, ragged wheezes. He's still not exactly in the best shape after all. Two thousand years worth of pneumonia and asthma can't be good for anyone.

"Aye, probably, but I don't like those either, I just want some feckin' music. What's a man got to do around here for a decent bit of music?"

Disgusting though Cassian is, Dorian moves to the edge of the grave and crouches down, reaching out to take the priest's hand and help him out of the grave. The scent of moist earth is pungent, but it's the only smell. The girl really has been dead a while.

"Mayhap we find one of those all-night diners with decent music, then. On a..." he'll remember, oh yes, "jukebox."

Indeed, the mess is all dirt and nothing more, all human additions to the soil have long since been leached out.

He takes the offer of help though, grateful, before going to brush off his coat and shirt. Yeah those are... beyond that kind of help, he's going to have to change.

"Aye, yes the jukebox, nice little invention, innit? They're a lot more wireless and computer related now, I remember when ye could watch the record play in 'em."

Dirt is soil, soil is unclean, but that doesn't really matter now, does it?

"A...record?" His introduction to technology came after the vinyl, after all. Also, he welcomed the change of subject.

Yes, Cassian. Change.

Don't be such a baby, Dorian. He runs his hands through his hair for a moment... then shakes the whole mess out. Dirt everywhere, there's a spider too, have fun with that-

"Aye, it's a plastic disk with grooves carved in it that when struck with a needle and spinning, translates the grooves into sound. Very fascinating thing, clever little device it is. Ye can use it to record music, voices, any sound really."

He's not being a baby. He just likes being clean. At least it's a normal-sized spider.

"Ah! Like Weiss' message at the Bay! Quite clever. Also, not unlike a music box, it sounds. Rather rudimentary technology, all spoken."

He frowns at what Cassian considers 'clean'. "You're going to eat this filthy? Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?"

"Well, Weiss's hologram at the bay is more along the lines of computers. I'm not a man for that but I hear it's got a great load to do with numbers and the like. Beats the absolute shite out of me."

He flicks off one last bug.

"Well she did manage to impress upon me little seven year old noggin not to put me elbows on the table."

"Do you mean mathematics?" He chuckles. "So would this record you're describing, honestly."

While he had a head for mathematics, himself, Dorian couldn't begin to understand how math could have anything to do with these computer things. He'd have to look into it more.

"Ah, good. There's hope for you yet."

"Mathematics with naught but ones and zeros in different patterns and in differing amounts. Perhaps a record is about the same, I never gave much thought to it."

One more bit of dirt brushed off, though he glared down at his clothes.

"... Ought to change, I should."

"Ones and zeroes, you say?" He taps his chin thoughtfully before shaking it. He'll need to look into it more, but now was not the time.

"Ah, so you've stumbled upon my original point after all."

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What's that light in the forest?

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