Date: 2012-10-20 06:21 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] ex_apricots766
[ he sighs outward enough to make his shoulders sink, then sits up slowly. ] I'll clean up now ...

Date: 2012-10-20 06:27 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] ex_apricots766
[ it's weird to hold the body. it's more stiff. cooler under the feathers. his knees feel weak and he wants to vomit, wants to cry again, but instead he manages to keep quiet and still. he strokes feathers, and frowns at al when he sees the bag once he comes back. ]

It needs a burial. We have to ... I want to send it off.

Date: 2012-10-20 06:32 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] ex_apricots766
[ tiny nod. ]

Do we have flowers?

Date: 2012-10-20 06:45 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] ex_apricots766
[ he takes care with it, when placing the hen's body back on the floor, setting her up like she's sitting. afterward, he takes care of the spot al mentioned, any remaining, helps him generally get the kitchen back into an acceptable order.

cleaning is strange, and this is definitely, since his arriving, the only time he's done it willingly or without half-assing it.
]

Date: 2012-10-20 06:51 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] ex_apricots766
[ alois pads over to collect al's coat for him, draping it over his arms, and when al is ready, he follows him out the door. ]

Date: 2012-10-20 06:57 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] ex_apricots766
[ ...! this stalls him, and al might get a couple steps or so ahead before alois regains composure and gently tugs the lapels of it closer around himself. he follows al to the edge of the property he mentioned before, saying nothing, tucking his chin into the coat, hyper-aware of the fabric against his knuckles where he keeps it clutched around himself. ]

Date: 2012-10-20 07:03 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] ex_apricots766
It's not really fair to them, is it? Even crows can fly.

Date: 2012-10-20 07:06 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] ex_apricots766
Then, it's not fair to any of them.

Date: 2012-10-20 07:08 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] ex_apricots766
To Luca. He's already so much like the sky.

Date: 2012-10-20 03:21 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] ex_apricots766
[ with nervous reluctance, alois takes hold of the spade's handle and it makes him feel icy to hold it, to know he's about to dig a grave. this is the least he can do, though. he isn't a sociopath or a lunatic.

deep breath, then he pierces the earth with the metal and not very much dirt is loosened. he frowns, bites into his tongue (it's a punishment) as harsh as possible, shrugs the coat off and attempts it again, straining his wrists to get the spade under grass and dirt. this time much more comes.

the work of it is infuriating. how long are small things like this going to remind him of what he learned? but, he can't bear thinking about going back inside until he knows the hen has flowers over it, so he works and works, biting down into his tongue more and more. his arms shake, he weeps without a sound, and he can taste salt and metallic in his mouth.

he manages a foot deep, before he's stopping, because it's grown difficult to see. shuddering breaths leave him, there's blood on the inner-edge of his lips, and he wipes the back of his hand over his eyes.
]

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Alphonse Elric

January 2020

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