Devlin Molony (deva) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2019-02-25 19:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | #december 2017, devlin, devlin x rostislav, rostislav |
Who: Dev & Rost
Where: Cemetery
When: Monday afternoon 12/4
Status: Complete
Dev would really have loved it if life consisted of nothing but song, drink and sex. He was happy to lounge with his lovers all day, every day and not worry about a thing. That just wasn't how life worked. When Rost had told him what was going on with the cemetery, he'd sat with it for a while to decide if it was something too risky for him to take part in. Powerful witches haunting sacred ground and destroying headstones? It definitely did sound like he was out of his depth but at the same time he certainly felt like he had a gift and he should use it. That was his final decision and he informed Rost they were going to the cemetery as soon as the weather allowed for it. It was funny how he hoped this wouldn't affect him badly, not so much for his own sake but because he knew guilt would eat Rost alive if something ill befell Dev because of this.
Monday rolled around, strangely warm for the season though Dev didn't give that much thought. Warm days happened in winter, nature was just like that. "Today's a perfect day for spectral adventures," he told Rost cheerfully after taking the trash out and actually lingering outside to enjoy the mild weather. Yes, today was a good day to take a trek through the cemetery. If he was going to be touching headstones with his bare hands, he might as well do it on a day where they weren't frozen. "It's actually warm out there."
Rost had made sure to say to Dev many times that he didn’t have to do anything. It ultimately was more Reagan Kelly’s problem than theirs, but he did have feelings about the cemetery, and access to someone who could do far more than he could about it all. He didn’t know how Baron’s spirit would affect Devlin, if they could even get in touch with her, but if his boy was willing to take the risk ... and he had been.
He was sitting in the kitchen with one of Greer’s robes on and a cup of coffee in his long-fingered hands. Rost had been getting a lot of good sleep since he’d been living with his lovers, and he was taking advantage of it. He hadn’t been back to the cemetery yet, with some loose excuses made to his bosses, and part of him wanted to never go back. But there were things to do there, and if the air that blew in when Dev came back inside was any indication, it was a nice day. “Are we ready then?” he asked as he stood up. Rost moved closer to Dev to wrap him in a brief hug and a kiss.
"I am," Dev said with a little chuckle, tugging on Greer's robe that honestly looked super cute on Rost but then Dev did like it when people didn't adhere strictly to gender roles and that robe was pretty girly on his hairy male lover. "You on the other hand, I'm not so sure, love. You going like this?" He tittered again and stole another kiss from Rost. It would make the visit to the graveyard all the better if he had Rost prancing around in fancy garments but he had a feeling that even that wouldn't be enough if things got bad. The only thing he was clinging to was the fact that his gift had never really hurt him. Annoyed him, sure, even scared him badly once or twice but it had never done him actual harm. "You look absolutely charmin' darling."
“You did say it was a nice day,” Rost pointed out with a crooked little grin. He happened to love Greer’s silky robes, they felt really nice on the skin, and the patterns were cool and bright. But it wasn’t exactly appropriate attire for traipsing around the cemetery, and he would hate to get it dirty. Rost kissed Dev’s forehead one more time, then let go to head for the bedroom to change. He was quick about it, emerging in his dark blue coveralls and sitting down briefly to put his boots on and lace them up. He fetched his keys and joined Dev near the door. “Would you like to walk? Or I can drive.” He was still using the work truck to get around, but if the weather was nice, they might as well take advantage of it.
It was a nice day for a walk but when they had a purpose as they did, driving was probably a good idea - especially if something went wrong so Dev raised his chin, put on a thoughtful expression, then nodded sharply. "You know what? Let's drive today." They could always go for a leisurely stroll later - possibly even at the cemetery - to enjoy the weather but for now he felt like playing it safe. He invited Rost go out first with a theatrical sweep of an arm, then followed after him to the truck. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous but in this case he didn't mind lying about it; Rost didn't need to feel guilty about all of this and Dev really wanted to help.
Nodding, Rost headed out the door. It was very warm for December in Maine, but he guessed he ought to just enjoy it like everyone else. And be thankful for the break when they needed it. There was a lot of ice and snow coming, after all. Once they were settled in the truck and on their way, Rost glanced over at his boyfriend’s profile. “I know I will say this enough times to be annoying, but thank you for doing this,” he said, reaching over to squeeze Dev’s thigh. He was a bit nervous himself, concerned that whatever it was that Reagan couldn’t handle might latch on to Dev, but they’d talked about it and it was reassuring to know that no ghost had ever been able to hurt him before.
"Thank you is never annoying," Dev reassured him. "It's sorry that gets grating but thank you, thank you is a beautiful set of words." He patted Rost's hand gently and there was a limit to how often he could tell him he was happy to do this. "After this we'll go get a drink or two to drink to a successful trip and you can stop thanking me 'cause you'll be paying." He shot Rost a little grin and squeezed his hand. "Really though, not even a bother."
Rost gave a little laugh and a nod, smiling as he drove them toward the graveyard. It was a lovely attitude to have, which wasn’t a big surprise because Dev was lovely. So was Greer. Rost just felt privileged to spend so much time with them, their energy was incredibly healing already. He hoped that it wouldn’t actually be a bother, aware that things might go worse than Devlin was saying. The other man was probably aware of that too, but he was still trying to help, and that spoke volumes.
Soon enough Rost was pulling the truck up to the small parking lot in front of the gate. Someone had been coming by since he’d been “sick” to unlock and lock the gate in the morning and evening, but that seemed to be all they’d been doing. Luckily it was winter so nothing seemed too overgrown yet, and the headstones Rost could see so far looked intact. He got out, waited for Dev to join him, then walked toward the entrance, his expression turning a bit grim.
Dev walked up alongside him and spared Rost a curious little glance as they passed through the gates. "Everything the way you left it?" he asked, unsure if Rost's expression was just wariness of things to come or if he'd seen something Dev didn't. He knew well that Rost cared for the cemetery more than he was paid to care really, and Dev understood it on some level. He just hoped it hadn't been messed with even more while Rost was gone.
Rost took a moment before he answered, his gaze sweeping over the grounds around them as they started down the path. “Nothing seems out of place,” he said, though there was wariness in his tone, like he expected to spot something at any moment. All of the headstones looked intact, nothing was on fire, all the angel statues were still in place, even if they might not have all been standing in the same position as they were before. After another beat, Rost added, “Except the air ... it is not hot anymore.” He’d told Dev about how just the cemetery had seemed unseasonably warm after Reagan had dug up that grave, and now that extra heat was gone.
"Might not be that it's warm all over now?" Dev asked though he wasn't trying to make Rost doubt himself. "Might still be hot, just doesn't feel quite so much without the frost?" He let his fingers trail over a headstone they passed, warming up in a way to the fact he was going to be removing his gloves and setting his hands on one of those stones. He had no idea what that would bring, he just hoped it was good news or a solution and not a further complication. He definitely wasn't hoping for the Baron lady herself to make an appearance, that was bound to be terrifying as she didn't come across as the most benign or reasonable ghost. Maybe just a glimpse at events though, or someone else - someone friendly - with a word or two of advice.
“Might be,” Rost agreed in a murmur, but he sounded doubtful. He’d gotten frustratingly aware of that heat, and he thought he would probably recognize that it felt the same. It didn’t. But maybe Dev was right, it was hard to know anything about any of this. Rost just made a mental note of it for when he talked to Reagan, and continued leading the way. He took Dev to one of the headstones that had exploded. He’d cleaned up all of the granite chunks, but the jagged base of the stone remained. He figured it would be best for them to start there instead of going to Baron’s grave. Rost stopped and put his hands on his hips, glancing over at Devlin. “Is this okay to start?” he asked, for lack of anything better to say.
Dev nodded and pulled his glove off without hesitation. The hesitation was there but it felt vital to not let Rost see it so the motion was fluid and quick, as if he had no qualms about this at all. "Let's see," he murmured as he walked over, patting Rost's back gently when he stepped up next to him, then leaned down to press his palm against the rock. There was nothing at first, just the cool stone against his hand and he suspected that meant he wasn't about to get anything, at least not a vision in any case. He frowned softly and straightened up again, opening his mouth to tell Rost they needed to check another stone when he saw they weren't alone.
Marilynne Kelly was standing a few feet away, in a smart dress and jacket that all hugged her curves, a little box hat sitting atop her perfectly curled dark hair. She had one arm crossed over her stomach, the other lifted with a long cigarette between two gloved fingers, her right hip cocked to one side. Her hawkish features were drawn in anger as she stared at the broken headstone. “An outrage,” she muttered sullenly. “Father would be beside himself.” She took an angry drag off of the cigarette, then her eyes ticked up and met Dev’s stare, and she froze for a second. One eyebrow lifted, and Marilynne pursed her lips. “Oh now you’re listening?”
Dev had clamped his mouth shut when he saw her. If he hadn't known they were alone before, her outfit was a dead give away that she was not of this world, that and he couldn't smell the smoke from her cigarette. He placed his hand on his chest and bowed his head slightly. "I am now, yes miss. I'm Devlin Molony, and you are?" She was so clear, not like Mrs. Mercer and he had a feeling she might not even realize she was dead. Ghosts were tricky, everything from echoes from the past to actual sentient creatures - he was never quite sure how to approach them.
Marilynne lifted her chin higher and regarded the ragamuffin-looking man. She couldn’t quite recall who he was supposed to be, that name didn’t ring any bells, but it seemed obvious that he was involved in the cemetery in some form or fashion. “Are you in charge here, Mr. Molony?” she asked, making a sweeping gesture with her cigarette. Marilynne took a drag from it, but the orange glow didn’t move down any further. She’d been smoking the same one for nearly fifty years. “This is unacceptable, when we interred my father here, I was assured he would rest undisturbed.” She paused, then added, “I’m Marilynne Kelly.”
Rost stayed where he was, his arms still crossed, glancing between Dev and the empty space he was talking to. Even though he’d seen Dev speak with a spirit before, it felt much different out in the open in the cemetery than it had in his trailer. He tried to muffle the creeped-out feeling he was getting and just listen instead.
"Marilynne Kelly," Devlin repeated and while it was for Rost's sake, he made it sound like a courtesy to the lady herself. "It's a pleasure, what a lovely name. I'm the uh-" he glanced at Rost and tilted his head briefly, shooting him a crooked smile. "The caretaker's assistant." It wasn't too far from the truth today, he was his eyes and ears when it came to this woman - this ghost. "I'm deeply sorry for the disturbance to your father's grave, rest assured we'll have it fixed as soon as we're possibly able. Did you see what happened here?"
Rost’s brows rose briefly -- he knew the Kelly name, at least. While the line was old, he wasn’t positive on how far back the name itself went, so he had no idea what time period the ghost was from. He couldn’t quite recall the dates on the tombstone that had been shattered, but he was fairly sure most in this section were from the early twentieth century. He kept listening with interest.
Marilynne looked Dev over again, her head tilting slightly as she placed his accent. Irish. The Irish had improved their position in the world, but she still felt a bit judgy against the working class. His questions were more important. “It was that horrible street woman,” she said with open disgust and a theatrical shudder of revulsion. “With the positively ancient clothes, and all the fire heat around her. Vile, nasty creature. And she just ruined my father’s grave without even a how-do-you-do!” Marilynne scoffed at the sheer audacity.
She was quite lively for a ghost and Dev barely smothered a grin at her theatrics. "She saw Baron," he told Rost and then to Marilynne, "I can't imagine what would drive her to do such a thing. Must be mad." He had a feeling they wouldn't get any information from her that could come in handy so he bowed his head again a little - wishing he had a hat to tilt. "We'll see to it that the headstone gets fixed Ms. Kelly. I hope you enjoy the day despite the hullabaloo." Maybe he'd get something more useful from the other headstones, or maybe not. He just hoped Marilynne wouldn't decide to stick around for days like some other ghosts had in the past.
Dev’s words made it sound like the conversation was coming to an end, and the info that this ghost had seen Baron had of course piqued Rost’s interest. He was watching his boyfriend with keen attention, gathering that Ms. Kelly was unhappy with what had happened to the tombstone. She wasn’t the only one, that was for sure. Rost uncrossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at Dev. “Did she say anything else about Baron?” he asked, trying not to sound too urgent about it. But this spirit was part of the Kelly family, perhaps she had been a witch in life too, and maybe she knew something useful.
Ms. Kelly was ignoring the tall mustachioed man, all of her focus on Dev, like Rost didn’t even really exist. “Well I certainly hope so,” she said testily, talking over Rost’s quiet words. “Or you can expect a strongly worded letter to the Better Business Bureau!” Marilynne took another drag from her eternal cigarette. “And this after we had such a disastrous trip to Philadelphia this year too, this is just too much!”
"God I wish you could hear her," Dev whispered to Rost before turning his attention fully to Ms. Kelly. "That horrible street woman you saw, did she stick around? Do you know anything about her? It would really help us if we knew more about what happened here and why." He was tempted to ask why her trip to Philadelphia had been such a disaster but it was irrelevant and most likely just the dramatics of a woman who was used to things going her way.
Marilynne pursed her lips and wobbled her head a tiny bit, then waved her cigarette dismissively. “Well, I didn’t witness it,” she admitted with only a touch of chagrin. “But I know it was her! There was her ... her stink all around.” Marilynne flapped her hand toward the ruined gravestone. “She’s gone now, so she can’t do any more damage, at least. The absolute nerve of some people.” She huffed and shook her head as if to ask what had gone wrong in the world. “But I don’t know specifics, darling, I am a very busy woman, after all. I’ve no time for divining the inner workings of the insane.”
Dev chuckled and nodded. "That is fair," he agreed and shook his head at Rost to indicate they weren't really getting anything more of use here other than a ghostly confirmation that Abigail Baron was a horrid ghost. "We'll move on then, survey the... rest of the damage." He started up, heading toward the next grave. "Have a nice day, Ms. Kelly," he called back, expecting her to fade away without a reason to stick around. She certainly hadn't been there before he touched the headstone.
“What did she say?” Rost asked eagerly as they started to move again. He looked at Dev’s face expectantly. He had seemed to have done a lot of listening, and even if it wasn’t important, Rost was dying of curiosity. He often wondered what kinds of ghosts and spirits hung around the cemetery, leading un-lives that he just couldn’t see.
“I’ll have you know, she’s been responsible for this dreadful heatwave, as well!” Marilynne continued, starting to follow them without her sensible pumps ever touching the grass. She had the sense that she had a lot to say and not many people to listen. Mr. Molony wasn’t getting away that quickly. “I don’t know why they let just any old riff-raff in here, you should bump up the security while you’re at it!”
"She's still talking," Dev whispered with a slightly exasperated little chuckle before turning to look at the ghost trailing after them. "She's a witch, you know," he told her. "I don't think any security measures we take could stop her from doing what she wants." He had to wonder if this ghost believed in witches or if she'd scoff and regard him a lunatic. "I just worry she'll come back, we're at a bit of a loss here."
Marilynne looked a bit startled at that declaration, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Devlin. “What do you know about witches?” she asked, then almost immediately waved her hand in front of her face to dismiss the question. “Never you mind, I don’t want to know. Of course I know she’s a witch, do you think I’m mentally deficient?” She huffed and put her hands on her hips. “For what it’s worth, I believe her to be gone-gone. I can’t see the future, obviously, but she has vacated the premises, and I don’t know who would come back here if they didn’t have to.” Marilynne tossed a disdainful look around the cemetery while Rost just listened, hoping she was saying something useful but doubt it because of the look on Dev’s face.
Dev didn't bother to point out that Abigail might have to return since this was where her body was buried. He had seen a few ghosts in his life but he didn't know the rules - if there even were any. "I'm glad she's not here for the time being at least," he said and kept walking. "I'm really not in the mood to deal with temperamental witches." Though Ms. Kelly might be a witch, she at least was civil for now. He was well aware that the ghost was still following and he hoped she wouldn't be hanging around him for days but that would remain to be seen. Instead of focusing on her he headed to the next headstone he could see was cracked, resting his hand on top of it. This one gave him a sudden jolt, a very quick vision of Abigail herself and it wasn't a pretty sight at all. He drew his hand back quickly, as if burnt and in a way that wasn't too far off the mark. It did feel like burning. At least it wasn't a feeling that lingered.
Rost couldn’t see or hear her, but he got the sense that Marilynne Kelly was still with them as they walked to the next desecrated grave. He glanced around them, feeling useless but fairly fascinated with this whole thing. He was at least glad to hear second-hand that Abigail Baron wasn’t in the vicinity. Maybe that would be helpful to tell Reagan later. She might also be interested to hear that Rost’s boyfriend had talked to one of her late relatives. It made him feel a little proud, honestly, in a weird way. All that flew out of his head as Dev reacted to the next headstone though, a look of alarm crossing Rost’s face. “What?” he asked, putting a hand on Dev’s arm. “Are you all right?”
"Yeah I... I saw her," Dev said with a frown. "Not a nice lady, I'm glad she's not here now." He looked away from that spot where he'd seen Abigail, empty now and calm, glancing at Rost instead and realizing he might misunderstand. "It was just a vision, Ms. Kelly says she's gone gone. Let's hope she doesn't return." He wrinkled his nose a bit as he thought about it. "I doubt she's just moved on though, unless breaking those stones gave her a peace of mind and I don't really see that being it."
Behind them, Marilynne rolled her eyes and took a drag from her cigarette again. “It’s very rude to speak of people as if they’re not present, you know, Mr. Molony,” she informed him. It didn’t seem to matter what he was doing or how he was doing it, these all just seemed like normal graveyard-assistant activities to her. She had more complaints, but interrupting was also rude, and Dev’s tall friend was talking.
Rost had looked around with a mixture of relief and dismay, his gaze coming back to Dev after a moment. “Zania, one of my witch friends, thought all the wrecked graves were from the families of the Point Pleasant Six. The Kelly family is one of them, this one was another,” he said, nodding at the broken headstone. “That does not sound like peace to me, but vengeance. If she is no longer here ... I worry too about where she has gone now.” It all made him wish he knew more about how ghosts actually worked.
Dev shot Marilynne an apologetic little smile before turning to face Rost, looking him over with some concern. "As far as we know she isn't haunting you," he said and almost added that this meant she was no longer their problem. It was so tempting to take that attitude to heart - out of sight out of mind - but Rost cared and Dev... Well, Dev always cared a little bit though he had an easier time of letting go than Rost did. "Maybe your friends can find her, put a stop to all of this. They sure seem more capable of it than you or I, my friend."
Baron really wasn’t his problem, especially if she’d vacated the cemetery. But Dev was right -- Rost cared. This wasn’t just his graveyard, this was his weird little town, and it had enough problems without an old crazy witch-ghost roaming around and causing havoc. Of course, it was always possible that Baron was actually gone, but Rost doubted it. Nothing got resolved that easily, not in his weird little town. But Dev was also right about how effective he could be. There was nothing he could do. “I certainly hope so,” he said, giving his lover a tired, pained look. Rost reached over to take his hand and squeeze it. “Thank you for looking, love.”
Dev brought Rost's hand up to kiss it, smiling warmly at him. He wasn't oblivious to how defeated Rost felt and so he gestured to their surroundings. "There are four more headstones that might tell us something," he said with suggestion in his tone. "Do you want me to keep looking?" He was willing though he wasn't sure what else they might learn that could actually help with anything.
Rost gave him a wan smile back, grateful for the show of affection as always. It was comforting, having that kind of support, even during things that made them frustratingly helpless. “Do you mind to look? Really, if you are tired ...” Rost let the offer trail off, studying Dev’s eyes. He wanted to know more, if they could find out more, but he didn’t want Dev to burn himself out on it or anything.
Meanwhile, Marilynne was eyeing them with more disdain. “Not only fresh off the boat, but a pair of dandies as well,” she said, mostly to herself, though she made sure it was loud enough to be heard. She tsked and looked away, putting her cigarette to her lips again. “Assistant, my left foot.” She supposed there were worse businesses for a couple of foreign fairies to be in than undertaking, but the open display was just distasteful.
Dev burst out laughing, he hadn't heard that word in a long time and certainly not in a serious context. "She called us dandies," he told Rost and waved at Ms. Kelly dismissively with a purposefully limp wrist before the sudden urge to dance overtook him. He rocked his shoulders a little, then his hips, gently rolling his wrists in tune to some imagined song. "Don't ever let me stop being dandy, darling."
Rost looked a little shocked and then belly-laughed at Dev’s antics. The sound even took him by surprise, louder than intended in the quiet cemetery, but damn it felt good to do. He tossed an amused glance around, his gaze passing right over the scandalized Ms. Kelly, who had finally had enough. She huffed some indignancy at the disrespect of it all and turned to hurry away. Rost grinned and shook his head. “Never, my love,” he promised, bouncing a little in a not-quite-dance to the rhythm Dev’s body set. “You are fine and dandy, both.”
Dev grinned back at him, then on an impulse cupped his face with both hands and kissed him firmly on the lips. "And so are you," he murmured as he pulled away, watching him with a warm expression. "I think we scared off Ms. Kelly. Probably best, she's a delight but I don't think I want her trailing after me for days to come." He let his hands drop and grabbed Rost's hands, giving them a little squeeze. "Come, let's see if there are any more answers lying in wait."
“Especially since we are going home together, yes?” Rost pointed out with a chuckle. He didn’t see or hear or feel any difference without the deceased Ms. Kelly around, but he knew to trust more than his senses in the world. Especially around here. “Imagine what she would think of the three of us.” He squeezed Dev’s hand and beamed at him, then started off to lead the way to another of the broken headstones.
"Absolutely ghastly," Dev said in a mock pompous British accent, even if Ms. Kelly didn't have one. It was just funnier to him that way. "Living in sin, fornicating like animals." He tittered, glancing around but not seeing the offended ghost anywhere. So far this was going better than he'd worried it would, although the brief vision he'd had of Abigail Baron still gave him chills if he thought about it. Joking around made it easier. "I wouldn't have it any other way, love."