|
|
Post by Prince on May 23, 2006 0:36:08 GMT -5
A long center aisle, rows and rows of pews, and beautiful stained glass windows show the wonder of this religious structure. This is the place to hold any major religious event such as a babtism, funeral, or wedding.
|
|
|
|
Post by spotconlon on May 26, 2006 16:43:13 GMT -5
Spot arrive early to the funeral. No one else had arrived yet, not even a priest. He sat down and put his head in his hands..waiting for otheres to arrive.
|
|
|
|
Post by Prince on May 26, 2006 17:45:36 GMT -5
Prince was standing by the front door. She'd come in after Spot had, and was surprised to see that he was there that early. She kept quiet, and would be hovering in the back of the sancutary for the entire service. After all, this was her territory, and she was in charge of making sure that nothing went wrong. And knowing Manhattan, Bronx, and Brooklyn... something would. She stood quietly where she was, and kept quiet for the time being.
|
|
|
|
Post by spotconlon on May 26, 2006 20:54:37 GMT -5
Spot heard a small sound behind him. He stood up and turned to see Prince standing in the door way. He raised an eyebrow at her, "Come to make shoa'h I wouldn't damage youa'h church o summin?" He asked suspiciously yet good naturedly enough.
|
|
|
|
Post by Prince on May 27, 2006 6:41:41 GMT -5
"Nah," Prince said looking at him, then towards a stained glass window. "Just thought I'd get here a little early to keep things in check from the start," she said. "Didn't mean ta impose er nothin'. Youse go right back ta what cha was doin'... pretend I ain't heah," she said looking back to spot, and then towards the front of the church, at the wooden coffin. He was a newsie after all... self-made coffins were the best they could do.
|
|
|
|
Post by Racetrack Higgins on May 27, 2006 16:18:41 GMT -5
Word had gotten around fast about the funeral. Racetrack was determined to come, even though he knew it was likely for fights to break out. Walking in with his hands in his pockets he sat down on an end, staring forward where the small coffin lay.
|
|
|
|
Post by Collin Russiani on May 27, 2006 17:38:15 GMT -5
"Hard ta believe, huh?"
Red was leaning back against the seat Race was in, his arms folded and his hair falling about his face. He wasn't afraid to be talking to someone from another burough. He and Race had been friends -still hopefully were- and this was neutral ground.
Besides, Red wasn't sure he would be able to fight any of his friends during this war. That would have been terrible, and too hard.
|
|
|
|
Post by arianette on May 27, 2006 17:45:14 GMT -5
Ariannette showed up at the funeral early. She wanted to make sure nothing happened before the ceremony. Dressed in a tightly corseted satin dress, her brilliant blond hair was done up carefully under a small black top hat, a black lace veil pulled over her face. Her beauty almost seemed accentuated in the morbid dress.
She slipped in to the sanctuary quietly, deciding to take a seat in the corner of the place. She seemed etherial, like some form of aparition to watch over the proceedings.
|
|
|
|
Post by newsiesonamission on May 27, 2006 17:48:05 GMT -5
SlingShot entered the funeral, looking for Spot. She spotted him and joined him, sitting next to him and didn't say a word. She had come early to make sure she was there for Spot in case anything broke out.
|
|
|
|
Post by Racetrack Higgins on May 27, 2006 17:49:15 GMT -5
Race glanced back at Red briefly then turned back to the front. He didn't reply, partly because he was feeling so glum, and partly because he wasn't sure if he wanted to talk with his Brooklyn friend at the moment. He finally mumbled a "Yea, it is" under his breath, then sighed and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.
|
|
|
|
Post by Collin Russiani on May 27, 2006 17:51:35 GMT -5
Red took that in stride, his lips pursed. He moved, sliding around and going to the aisle. He had work tonight, but was skipping it to come to the service. Kneeling in front of the coffin, he bowed his head, whispering under his breath in Italian and Irish. Slipping something from around his neck, he laid it on the top.
A golden cross flared in the light as he got to his feet again. He had paid his respects, and let his fingers trail across the wood one last time before he turned back and sat in a seat a few rows from Race, looking down at the ground.
|
|
|
|
Post by newsiesonamission on May 27, 2006 19:25:55 GMT -5
SlingShot looked at the people around her. She watched Red walk back to a seat from the coffin and raised a hand in greeting. She looked at Spot who looked deep in thought. She lowered her head and began mumbling prayers in Spanish, keeping herself wary of anything that might break out.
|
|
|
|
Post by fancy on May 27, 2006 19:33:09 GMT -5
Fancy slid quietly through the doors, seemingly un-noticed. Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back as she sank down quietly in the back row.
|
|
|
|
Post by newsiesonamission on May 27, 2006 20:28:43 GMT -5
SlingShot heard a noise and turned around to see Fancy slide into a seat in the back. She sighed and turned straight, reflecting on the events of the past few days, and the reasons why they were all at this funeral, and why so many of the people here were avoiding eacher other. She glanced at Spot again, almost wishing for something to happen...
|
|
|
|
Post by spotconlon on May 29, 2006 8:39:31 GMT -5
Spot looked around and saw Race, he was glad to see him there. He had actually missed the kid-that and he knew he was good friends with Spike. He looked at Slingshot, "The rest of Brooklyn betta'h show if dey wants to be livin' tomarrow."
|
|
(c)Red
