Peter and Aly's anniversary had been everything they'd been hoping it would be. Peter had surprised Aly with breakfast in bed that he didn't make. Liz had helped with that. And then they had taken a bath together...which had dissolved in to raunchiness as it always did. And when they had emerged from the bathroom, quite happy and giddy, their children had spoiled Aly with birthday presents. Aly was completely over the moon that she'd been able to have a wedding anniversary, and the fact that it was on her birthday was the best present she could ever have anticipated receiving.

SURPRISE! )
Peter and Aly's anniversary had been everything they'd been hoping it would be. Peter had surprised Aly with breakfast in bed that he didn't make. Liz had helped with that. And then they had taken a bath together...which had dissolved in to raunchiness as it always did. And when they had emerged from the bathroom, quite happy and giddy, their children had spoiled Aly with birthday presents. Aly was completely over the moon that she'd been able to have a wedding anniversary, and the fact that it was on her birthday was the best present she could ever have anticipated receiving.

SURPRISE! )
The burned out hulk of what had once been Digital Anachronism Studios came in to view, looking like a grotesque skeleton amidst the backdrop of the cold London night. Lavannah looked up at it as they approached, gripping Rosa's hand tightly. They weren't even inside yet, but already Lavannah could hear the souls trapped inside, begging for their freedom. Someone to help them. Screaming and crying in frozen anguish. They hadn't known their fate because the tragedy that was the Vanity Faire video shoot had caught everyone by surprise. It was a horrible shock to the system to suddenly be dead. Some of the trapped souls didn't even understand that they were yet. But Lavannah was coming for them.

This place is clear )
The burned out hulk of what had once been Digital Anachronism Studios came in to view, looking like a grotesque skeleton amidst the backdrop of the cold London night. Lavannah looked up at it as they approached, gripping Rosa's hand tightly. They weren't even inside yet, but already Lavannah could hear the souls trapped inside, begging for their freedom. Someone to help them. Screaming and crying in frozen anguish. They hadn't known their fate because the tragedy that was the Vanity Faire video shoot had caught everyone by surprise. It was a horrible shock to the system to suddenly be dead. Some of the trapped souls didn't even understand that they were yet. But Lavannah was coming for them.

This place is clear )
Even as it was happening, Peter's funeral seemed so beyond surreal. The chapel at the hospital was full fit to burst with people who had come to mourn the loss of Peter Kemp. Stuart was officiating and despite his years in the clergy, he found that it was impossible to come up with the right words to say. So instead he borrowed Peter's words, opting to read passages from Peter's journals about the importance of love and family, artfully leaving out all mentions of angels or demons or anything else supernatural. People were allowed to say a few words, and those that were able to got up and shared memories or feelings or thoughts. Deirdre went on for nearly 20 minutes because that's what Deirdre did. No one minded. They were focused on Peter, resting in front of them like he was asleep. He was dressed in the suit he'd been married in to cover up his scars, and his hands were folded lightly across his chest. His first journal rested beneath them. It seemed only fitting that he be interred with it.

After the service, everyone relocated to the mausoleum that Aly had purchased. It was a large stone building with ornate iron work and a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. And it was theirs now, it belonged to the family. Aly had placed some vases in the corners that had belonged to Louise. Flowers were placed in them, and Peter rested in the middle so people could see him one last time before he was lifted up and slid into his place in the top row. It was very informal, because that's how Peter would have liked it. Aly was hanging back, not yet ready to say goodbye. She let other people see him first. She knew how very important her husband was to...well...everyone. Instead of crowding, she leaned against the outside of the mausoleum, holding baby Thomas who was strangely still, and she cried softly as she stared up at the cloudy sky.
Even as it was happening, Peter's funeral seemed so beyond surreal. The chapel at the hospital was full fit to burst with people who had come to mourn the loss of Peter Kemp. Stuart was officiating and despite his years in the clergy, he found that it was impossible to come up with the right words to say. So instead he borrowed Peter's words, opting to read passages from Peter's journals about the importance of love and family, artfully leaving out all mentions of angels or demons or anything else supernatural. People were allowed to say a few words, and those that were able to got up and shared memories or feelings or thoughts. Deirdre went on for nearly 20 minutes because that's what Deirdre did. No one minded. They were focused on Peter, resting in front of them like he was asleep. He was dressed in the suit he'd been married in to cover up his scars, and his hands were folded lightly across his chest. His first journal rested beneath them. It seemed only fitting that he be interred with it.

After the service, everyone relocated to the mausoleum that Aly had purchased. It was a large stone building with ornate iron work and a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. And it was theirs now, it belonged to the family. Aly had placed some vases in the corners that had belonged to Louise. Flowers were placed in them, and Peter rested in the middle so people could see him one last time before he was lifted up and slid into his place in the top row. It was very informal, because that's how Peter would have liked it. Aly was hanging back, not yet ready to say goodbye. She let other people see him first. She knew how very important her husband was to...well...everyone. Instead of crowding, she leaned against the outside of the mausoleum, holding baby Thomas who was strangely still, and she cried softly as she stared up at the cloudy sky.

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Darker London

October 2014

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