THE IN-BETWEEN HONEY / sam's funeral

As far as she may wish to put it off, she couldn't. The boat had been crafted from scratch, as carefully as they could, flowers and herbs stuffed all around, covering all but the doberman's face, hiding the scent of death with lavender. But she didn't want to smell lavender, nor any fancy calming scents. They were not calming. They only made the feeling even stronger.

She'd tasked herself with painting the sail, an effort she restarted several times over. What exactly she was to paint, she was unsure for a while. There were many different ideas she cycled through - life stories, flowers, foods, those she'd known - but as she got into each, she felt as if she could do none proper justice. No matter how stories she shared, how many times they'd cooked together, what plants she could possibly choose, how much her friends and family were depicted, all felt flat to her. Her painting skills were not so grand, simplistic and impressionistic, and her lover deserved better. Most of all, she found herself unable to proceed, the literal images in her face causing her static to start up once more, removing any peace that may be found in the act of painting. And the thorns struck her again and again.

And ultimately, she decides to try something entirely different altogether.

On one sail, the starry night sky above a forest clearing is depicted, at the bottom of which was the white silhouette of a deer, antlers piercing through the dark. And the other, in the bright, clear morning sky was a golden bird above the salty sea, shining at the top of the painting. They both had light rays coming from one another's presence, pointed towards each other, though still separate. The sun and the moon.

And the event set up itself was small, there was no platform for speaking, a few tables for food and drinks, and some towels to rest on. That in itself was a miracle, to have anything at all, from the grieving tigress. Her eyes are tired, gaze somewhere else, and she sits quietly by the shore, not looking at Sam's body. The boat rests quietly in the shallow waters, sail resting downward, small carriage docked for the time being. And the widowed captain very clearly did not want to be here.

But there would be speeches of life and death, and it was her duty, both to Sam, and to their children, to host this event. She'd promised she would.

Funerals were supposed to help the grieving let go, let them move on. But she wasn't ready to do that yet. She didn't want to let go.

"M' wife is dead, and everything is worse." She would state quietly, just loud enough that if someone was a few feet away they'd hear. It was not the beginning to any speech she'd prepared. She'd not prepared a speech at all. She couldn't.

me dejaste, me dejaste en un tango

She had never attended a funeral before and she definitely didn't expect to attend the funeral of her niece's late wife. It was saddening that life was precious yet it was cruel to stop without much of a warning or simply, people didn't heed those warnings until it was too late. Maybe... if she had realized sooner about Jaime... Maybe he wouldn't be dead. She had kept him somewhere safe until it was her turn to hold his own funeral, Roxanne had an idea of where to bury him. He had died from the fire within... Roxanne didn't wish to burn him outer either. Flames had caused him enough agony. The mother tried not to think too much about it as she approached the scene where her niece was, both of them tired and emotionally worn out from loss. One from losing a soulmate and the other losing a child.

Hearing what Goldie say made the Officer's ears perk, it did seem that way but maybe things would gradually get better for the both of them or that's what Roxanne wished for anyways. She wanted to reassure her niece of this but even she was uncertain of what the future held for them, a soft sigh brushing past her lips as she would move to stand beside the tigress nudging them in a gentle way. Roxanne was familiar with love and loss, they seemed to go together. She didn't like it but things just seemed to be that way. Roxanne wanted to say something comforting nothing formed in her mind so she decided that pressing close to her niece would help. Eventually, she would say something not particularly looking anywhere specific, into the distance, staring out at the ocean "After the rain, there's a rainbow. After a storm, there's calm. After the night, there's a morning. And after an end, there's a new beginning."

She finally took the moment to glance up at Goldie before putting her small paw onto her niece's much larger paw, they would both get through this. She was determined even if it was still fresh. It still stung heavily.

EN EL ALMA SE ME FUE, SE ME FUE EL CORAZÓN
YA NO TENGO GANAS DE VIVIR, PORQUE NO TE PUEDO CONVENCER
QUE NO TE VENDAS, ROXANNE

— Reggan

we got no money, but we got heart ▸ ▸ ▸

ALIA CIPHER-VANTAS

THE TYPHOON

MINNOW

Alia had never seen anyone die, and due to her young age didn't quite know what death in and of itself meant. After her mother had caught Roxanne and Roan talking to her when she had been trying to find friends, she'd been talked to about how she needed to stay away from the Roux family. She knew that if she was seen talking to them, Alia would be in big trouble, but that hadn't stopped her from being curious and wanting to speak to them more, wanting to see what they did. So when one of the Roux family members had held a funeral for someone Alia had never met, she decided that she would go, whether or not Aphra would like it.

Staying back and away from the family in case her mother was to come over and say something, Alia had found herself at the table with the snacks, absentmindedly munching on some of the food that was offered as she watched Goldie and Roxie for a moment, face lax with no emotion on it for the time being. The aura around the place in general was sad, so Alia could only guess that funerals were meant to be sad places, though it confused her. The one they were sad over seemed to just be sleeping, why not just wake her up while she was on the boat?

▸ ▸ ▸ we're gonna rattle this ghost town

IF MY LIFE IS GOING

TO MEAN ANYTHING,

I HAVE TO LIVE IT

MYSELF.

tiguar . young . he/him
demigod of the deep

The ocean, consistent and contact, was what Seapaw Roux believed his life revolved around. The demigod was aware of it's thrall, how it called to him, promising comfort. Its what filled him with life and its where those he loved went when they died. Today, it's cries and crashing waves fell on deaf ears as he sat, many yards from the shore and gathered crewmates. He sat stiff, eyes clouded as he stared out upon the ocean and its never ending blue scape.

The normally teary-eyed boy was a statue, far from those that may give him comfort. A single tear streaked down his face, dissapearing into the thick fluff that lined his face. Emotions shoved away, compacted into a box to be thrown to the back of his mind. He could not afford to mourn, to grieve, he needed to watch over his family, to take care of them. They needed him to be strong, not the weak teary-eyed child he was on the inside.

IT TOOK A LITTLE TIME
[align=center]TO MAKE A LITTLE BETTER

IT'S ONLY GOING UP

JUST ONE THING THEN ANOTHER

lovekit — the typhoon — tags

Death. It was a complicated concept, and one that was difficult for most children to get a handle on. After all, their lives had been so short, but so much was packed within that small time... it seemed impossible that it would all just end. When Sam's death had first happened, Lovekit had been unable to understand what was going on. He had simply pressed into his late mother's fur, urgently trying to get her to wake up so that his mom would stop screaming, and stop crying. Goldie needed her, so why had she just kept on sleeping...? Nothing had become any more clear when Seapaw had drawn him close, reassuring and trying to comfort him even as confusion and panic filled him. Why did he need comforting? Why wasn't mama awake? What was going on? So many desperate questions had swirled in his mind, but none of them had truly been answered. His brother was just trying to hold them all together, while his mom was slowly falling apart at the seams... there was no time for the questions of a frightened child. And so, he had just let it go, and watched as everything fell apart further and further.

When the time had finally come for Sam's funeral, Lo had only been further confused by the sudden gathering of Typhoon members. There were so many, and the air was so heavy, and his mom stood at the front of it all, looking as exhausted and confused as he felt. Lovekit could see Seapaw lingering at the edge of everything, stiff and emotionless as he stared out over the crashing waves. However, the child had no idea how to comfort his brother, and it didn't seem proper to try and seek out comfort for himself, so he moved silently past everyone. It wasn't long before the small hybrid arrived where his mother and Roxie were, opening his muzzle in a silent question. The words died on his tongue, however, when he noticed his mama's body on the boat. He could see only her face, the rest of her covered and hidden. She still wasn't awake... why wasn't she awake? Ot was obvious that mom was suffering, so what was Sam doing? Mama was supposed to help take care of them all, right? Including mom. So why wasn't she doing anything? Lo just stared down at her for a moment, his small form shaking as he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, "...Wake up. Wake up... wake up. Why aren't you awake? What did mom do to deserve this? Why won't you just wake up? Please!" His voice grew desperate at the end, his ears flattening heavily down against his skull.

The young boy offered no one else the chance to comfort him, or even question what he was doing. Instead, he just stumbled back, green eyes stinging with unshed tears. His growing wings were trembling upon his back, and he sent one last desperate look towards Goldie before he turned. It was all too much... everything was too much. He needed to leave, and he needed to make mom happy again. He knew he could do it. He had to. With his heart hammering in his chest, Lo took off through the sand, tears rolling down his cheeks as he fled the funeral, and fled all the rest of it, as well.

( out!! )

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TYPHOON
NECRO MAMBAS

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[div style="width: px; font-family: GEORGIA; color: #422426; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"][align=center]ARE YOU GOOD WITH CHAOS ?!

For the Roux family, especially Goldie, the ocelot slowly walked to the funeral. Her paws sunk into the shore’s wet sand, each wave lapping up to her elbows.

Rosemary, due to her own antisocial nature, knew little about Sam. Now that the woman died, the ocelot looked back on the empty moments with guilt. Had her solitude really been more important than bonding with Goldie and her partner? If given a chance, she would’ve decided differently back then.

She sighed, right ear twitching. From a way’s away, she saw Roxanne comfort Goldie and hesitated. Surely, comfort from Roxanne mattered more; the witch shouldn’t butt in and break up the emotional moment. Roxanne bonded with Sam, knew her personally.

While she argued leaving or going, she spotted the lone tiguar by the shore. She recognized him, of course she recognized him. However, like Sam, they weren’t close. Still. He was alone, wasn’t he? Feeling out of place.

She altered course, stepping onto dry sand. Without a word, the ocelot sat down next to Seapaw. For a brief moment, she glanced at his face, just long enough to see his tear. Then she politely turned her head, though her tail-tips brushed his shoulder.

For a long moment, Rosemary watched the funeral from afar and listened to the waves break. Saying nothing.

“You can talk to me, if you want—now or later. The silence is nice, too.”