Grave digger, grave digger

[ellrigaeta]

WHO: Head Retrieval, Burial, and Bargaining Associates, LLC
WHAT: Lorne has Theobald's mangled, severed head in a bag that needs proper burial rites and so on.
WHEN: Just after this
WHERE: The chapel
NOTES: Definitely gore, possibly related body horror, will add more as needed

Once Kit and Lorne part ways, Lorne treks through the snow towards the chapel because it's the best idea he has. What else does one do with partial remains that have been snacked on by the taloned terror living on the mountaintop? Probably what one does with any remains: see to their burial.

Lorne is conscious of all the blood staining his clothing and seeping through the burlap bag as he walks and schools his expression as neutral as he can manage. Official business, nothing to see here; his family is just going to be thrilled if they see him come home like this.

Upon reaching the chapel, Lorne tugs off one of his gloves so he can open the door with a clean hand, and sticks his head inside. The sack is kept out of view of the opening so as not to alarm anyone inside who's staying there at the moment.

"Brother Vervain? Or Father Normand?" Whichever of them is in earshot. "I could use some assistance."

Comments

[amaurosisfugax]

Whatever the intentions behind it, Ver certainly appreciates the rescue from Fun Adventures in Corpseland. (He's not ashamed to breathe a sigh of relief as the vicar extricates him.) "Thank you, Father."

And that would be the extent of his contributions, really, except there goes Vlad. "It's never a waste to give the gods their due," Ver remarks, primly.

[ellrigaeta]

At Vlad's comment, Lorne's eyebrows climb towards his hairline. The surgeon's reputation is Known but whatever he's implying about the head definitely makes Lorne a bit leery. Not to mention a little worried. He turns a more appreciative look on Vervain, which he will verbalize later if he gets the chance.

"Then we'll just have to wait and see if anyone survived up there," he says to the vicar, nodding. It may be awhile before the snow clears enough for them to come down, or else any travel will be exceedingly slow. No doubt the snowfall was heavier up the mountain.

"If there's nothing else for now, I ought to go get cleaned up," Lorne adds, gesturing to his somewhat bloodied clothes. The sooner he can get them soaking, the less likely they'll stain.

[mysteriumtremendum]

"Of course, Master Ward. Thank you, maestro," Adhemar answers Volodymyr, regarding him unblinkingly, "for your services. I believe Brother Vervain and I can take over from here."

He has run out of patience, which is evident in the iciness of his fixed stare. He gestures with one arm towards the steps leading back out of the crypt, a courteous but transparent dismissal of the physician from the vicarage.