Emmeline Fox | M E D I U M (spiritphotog) wrote in thisdarknight, @ 2016-07-11 15:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | !locale: garden district, david malvot, emmeline rothschild |
but i swear i hate it when you leave
Who: David Malvot & Emmeline Rothschild.
What: Emmeline goes to the church to check on her brother after the murder.
Where: The Church of St. Bartholomew.
When: The night following this event.
Warnings: None. Just more sibling fighting.
Progress: Gdoc, complete.
She hadn't planned on being back so soon; her bruised ego had balked at the idea of returning to the church to check on David as though he were a child incapable of caring for himself. But an event like this was frightening, especially considering the reason why she was back in New Orleans to begin with. For her own mental well-being, she had returned to the church, pushing open its doors to find it empty so soon after dusk. Either Meunier was keeping her flock close, or no one had sought out the comfort of the church in the wake of such a bizarre event.
It wasn't that Kindred didn't die in the Big Easy; it was the strange nature of the death that hit so close to home for Emmeline. The man had either committed suicide, or had been forced to; either way, Emmeline had felt her chest constrict when she heard the news, unnecessary breath fleeing in and out of her mouth in some strange parody of a panic attack. She had gone by the crime scene as close as she could, it being cordoned off with yellow tape, but had felt nothing but the yawning black hole that remained in the face of the building where the nightclub had been.
And now she was here, nearly stumbling down the aisle, her eyes raised up to that crimson window in the back. She turned her gaze to one corner of the church, which she knew led down to the church Kindred's resting place. Before she could realize what she was doing, she was pushing open the doors and descending to the hell that she thought she'd left behind all those years ago. She hadn't quite expected to run smack into the one she was looking for, but once again her limbs were moving of their own accord before she could stop herself.
"Thank God," she muttered as she threw her arms around David's neck, her small form fitting to his like being hung from a pillar. "Thank God, I was so worried."
His arms slipped around her. For all the ease of his movement there was tension in his body, uncertainty that wrote itself in every flex of muscle and bone. He looked down to her, his dark eyes glittering in the dim light.
"I'm glad to see you're well," he said. He kissed her forehead, his hands briefly tightening on her arms in an approximation of a hug. "The Lord has cared for his flock, as I knew he would. I was just going to light another candle for Dubois, if you'd like to join me."
Emmeline pulled herself back as she seemed to remember who she was with, where she was. Her mouth pressed itself into a line.
"Yes, I'm sure lighting something else on fire will certainly comfort his spirit," she retorted before she could stop herself, if she had wanted to stop herself. His jaw clenched tight. She pressed her hands to her face, dropping them to her sides before they lifted again in supplication, worry and apology etched in her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry, David, please don't be mad. I just can't... This is all so hard to take in." She moved with him back toward the public area of the church, unable to stop herself from feeling as though she were being rerouted away from that which she was no longer allowed into. In some ways, it was easier to not be in those warrens anymore, but she could not fully shake the feeling of exclusion. "Please tell me this hasn't become commonplace while I've been gone."
"It hasn't." Though he had turned from her, had put his back to her as he sought the openness of the sanctuary beyond, still he reached out and took her hand. His thumb passed soft over her skin. "This is the first such attack, but it seems unlikely it will be the last. We pray for peace and prepare for tribulation."
He stopped in an alcove, where a small altar bore an icon of Saint Lawrence. The altar was laden with lit candles, and the brass box at its front was heavy with donations, chiming loudly when David lightly tapped its base. He smiled softly as he reached for an unlit taper. "The parishioners have been generous," he said. "We will send the donations to Laveau when there is enough. Some small token of our shared mourning. Of course you may give as well, if you like."
Emmeline's brow knit as her mind worried over his previous words; she clung to his hand, bringing her other to cup around his semi-warm flesh. "You don't think it will be the last? How can you know?"
"They say it's murder." He shrugged. With his free hand he touched the taper to another's dancing flame. It ignited, and he handed it to Emmeline to light her own. She took it without thinking, the candle casting shadows over one side of her face. "One of Laveau's, murdered on Savoy's ground. The best we can hope for is retaliation, whether Savoy sanctions it or not. The worst, outright war."
He turned to face her. He tightly squeezed her hand. "Come back to the Garden District," he said. "Stay here, in the church, and show your neutrality in this before such displays become necessary."
She studied his face for a moment, the dancing flame between them a perfect example of her thoughts as they waxed and waned. Carefully, she pulled her hand away from his.
"I don't belong here anymore. And if fighting should break out, you don't belong here either. It's been dangerous here for too long, David; it was only ever a matter of time before things fell apart at the seams." It was unclear if she was talking about New Orleans itself, or the church.
David shook his head. He drifted farther from her, leaving the altar and its spit-roasted martyr behind. "This is my home," he said. "It is yours, too, whatever you may think. I don't believe I'm marked for death just yet. And if I am, there is nowhere I'd rather meet my end than right here. Surrounded by my faithful, in the place that gave me purpose."
Emmeline frowned, putting the candle down in an empty slot. After a moment, she rethought the motion and lit another taper next to the one David had, then put it down again. Her hands fell to her middle, folding neatly as she turned her gaze back to her brother.
"How is everyone else in the church dealing with this? Has Camille issued anything?" She thought back to a time when she'd chided him for his harsh remarks -- my mother always said, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar -- and decided on a different tack.
"The church is handling it as well as can be expected," he said. "Our parishioners are frightened, but they know the Lord and Saint Longinus watch over them. We will be holding a Requiem Mass for Dubois," he said, "and all are welcome, regardless of faction or station. I pray Savoy and Laveau can put aside their differences for a single night to honor our fallen brother. This is not called a sanctuary for nothing. We should be able to come together to mourn our departed and seek answers where we can find them."
Emmeline found her head bobbing, even as she strained to not let her mouth curl into a sneer she could feel biding its time behind her placid smile.
"I would be incredibly surprised to see either of them here, regardless of the event," she replied, unable to stop the dry tone from creeping into her words. "I would think pigs were flying. And I suppose that those who do show their faces will certainly find help and comfort offered in the arms of the church? How many is Camille expecting to convert?"
David folded his arms across his chest. "And now your true reasons for coming tonight are revealed," he said. "Who are you to mock those who find comfort in the faith? Or the very real, tangible aid we provide to our community? Tell me, how would you help them, Emmeline? Would you rather they all be terrified for themselves and their loved ones, as you were moments ago?"
"Because this place is going to keep out whoever killed that man?" Emmeline was hard pressed to keep her voice down. She stopped, swallowing her next words, gritting her jaw even as she pressed her lips closed. Her gaze swelled up to the ceiling, and back down in the same gesture. "They would obviously be better off not being here, David, if something is trying to kill Kindred. If you're right and this continues, who's to say it will stay in the French Quarter? How long before it comes here, to the Garden District, or the church? Do you have some spell, or some device to keep it from coming through those doors?"
His voice was frigid; his eyes, though, flashed with barely restrained anger. "What we have is no longer your concern," he said. "You've made that abundantly clear. I am secure in our protections here. That may not be enough to satisfy you, but it is enough for Camille and our parishioners."
She blinked in surprise, all but taking a step back. Her hands had moved to her sides, where they grasped for something she could not name. For a moment, she looked as though she might cry, but Emmeline swallowed back the expression. She could not wholly wipe the sadness from her face.
"I care about you, David," she replied, her voice rough. "Despite what you think, I'm worried for you. I don't think you're taking any of this seriously."
"I'm taking it with all the seriousness it requires," he said. He flashed rows of sharp, bright teeth, his expression equal parts threat and smile. "Save your concern for those who need it. Whatever may enter this church in malice has both me and God to contend with, and for its sake I hope God finds it first. Now. If there's nothing more?"
Her bottom lip trembled, but Emmeline steeled herself. A cold expression to match her brother's unfolded over her face.
"I just wanted to make sure I still had at least one breathing family member, which is more than I can say for you. I'll leave you be, then." She turned away from him, moving toward the same doors she'd come through only moments before at a much quicker pace. As soon as she was far enough away from him, she wiped at her eyes to catch any blood tears that threatened. Emmeline was lost as to why her brother had to make this so difficult; for now, she had other things to occupy her attention, though she knew that it would be difficult to distract herself from him.