mother of sorrows
๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ป, ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐จ๐ช๐ฃ ๐ฎ๐ช๐ณ ๐ฏ๐ช๐ค๐ฉ๐ต
the
...introduction
Your phone rings. It has been doing that a lot, lately.
'...Hello? Oh, hi. Hey, yes, it's me. How are you?'
You are unwell. There is a thick throbbing behind your skull, like clumsy fingers trying to break the bone open. You do not say that - or perhaps you do.
'Oh. Yes. Listen, let me get to the point. About Marcille's funeral, I - we thought, you know, as a family. We thought, uh, to hold it back at Howler Mansion.'
The place sits on your chest when you sleep. A place of wet, black coastal rock and cold hallways. You would hide in the dark lacquer closets as a kid during birthdays. You are not quite sure you ever made it out.
'I mean, Marcille would have wanted that. For us.'
It's hard to tell what she wanted, in those last few bitter years. She had never been an easy to person to deal with, but age and illness have reduced her to genuine spite. The last conversation you had with her might have been an argument, though you don't remember; the fights all blistered into one at that point.
'Can you just promise me you'll come? Please? I know you don't like anyone there. But do it for...'
You don't want to go back to Howler Mansion. You won't find anything there but ash and a new grave, back behind the yard.
You shouldn't go.
'I'll arrange a room for you. Just, please.'
You receive a formal invitation, anyway.
โ โ
In remembrance of the beautiful life of Marcille de Westleon, we warmly invite you to share in a celebration of her journey on the 23th of November, 1973.
The funeral will be held at 8:20 AM at the De Westleon graveyard at the Howler Mansion, in Deer Trap, Maine. Marcille was a capable boss, the very definition of American hard work and ingenuity. She was the owner of companies that the built from the ground up, making her own fortune in this country. But to those that knew her personally, she was much more than that; she was also a daughter, mother, sister, aunt. She quietly passed away at 78 due to a heart attack.
We hope to see you there, to celebrate this amazing woman and all her deeds.
โ โ
Hello, hi! I'm sorrows and welcome to this tiny mystery roleplay I have had in the works for a while now! The story follows a dysfunctional, unpleasant and - most importantly- painfully rich family as they gather to bury their matriarch. Most of them barely liked her. Most of them don't even like themselves. But whether they want to be here or not, they are now packed back into their ancestral mansion for two weeks, trying to gather the pieces and calling their lawyers on speed dial. The will is explicity to be revealed these two weeks have passed, and everyone is already miserable at the prospect of how Marcille's empire is going to be butchered up.
Howler Mansion is fitting for a funeral, in any case. Only the most poetic of them might enjoy just how isolated this place is. The rest find it uninviting, like a tomb.
(And anyway. You haven't been able to sleep, since you came here.
)
If you guys have any questions, please let me know - due to the nature of the story, I tried to purposefully keep it somewhat vague! Still, I hope it will interest some of you guys!
This is not first come first serve.
There will be CS, though I don't have any specific roles that have to be taken. You could write the snide oldest child of Marcille that spent years in her shadow, her favorite angel child, a distant uncle that at one point had it going on, but has now become an alcoholic and stopped showering, a scheming bullied cousin, a nervous paper-shifting lawyer, a quite frankly baffled working-class spouse of one of the de Westleons. As long as the idea is realistic, I'd love to hear them!