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Marcus Flint (marcedflint) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Marcus and Open
It had taken Marcus almost an hour and two shots of Firewhiskey to force down the feeling of dread he'd woken with, and another half hour of getting ready before he felt prepared to leave the manor. A lifetime of learning to not allow his expressions show his feelings was a practice he was grateful for today. He'd dressed, done a quick breath-Freshening charm, and arrived at the funeral home early, had another quick conversation with the director, who assured him that everything was taken care of, which meant that all that was left for him to do was to greet and speak with anyone who might have approached him.

While he waited for the appointed time for the service to begin, Marcus tried not to look at his mother - he couldn't bring himself to think of it as her body, not if he wanted to maintain his composure. He'd always hated the concept of staring at anyone in an open casket, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to go against tradition in his. It left him staring at the flowers he'd chosen instead, vaguely registering the individuals who had started entering the room, but he didn't move his attention until someone came up to him directly.