Funeral: Family Problems
Apr. 7th, 2017 09:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aldersprigFirst: Funeral
Previous: Funeral: Ellehemaei Inheritance Law
Senga looked over and up at Silence. He was looking over and down at her. He lifted his eyebrows at her. She shrugged at him.
“You’re right,” she admitted, “I’m screwed if you say no, and you’ve got more to lose by saying yes.”
“You don’t have shit to lose by saying yes,” he growled.
“Why don’t we talk about that when we’re out of here, one way or another? Because this isn’t exactly my cup of tea, either.”
“Yeah, well..”
“I’m sorry to rush you,” Mr. Maladono interrupted, not sounding the least bit sorry, “but I have several more cases to get through today. Mirabella’s will was, as you might have noticed, quite complicated, and there are quite a few people who wish to contest the terms or amounts of their inheritance.”
“You’re going to need more bodyguards,” Senga muttered. She looked up at Silence. “Well? This is your call. You’re the one that’s going to be wearing the collar.”
“You’re the one who — well, no.” He leaned backwards and stared at the ceiling for a minute. “Senga Monmartin, I Belong to you for—”
Mr. Maladono’s loud throat-clearing interrupted in.
“Oh, departed gods fuck all. Senga, I’m yours.”
“Erramun, Death Comes Silently, you Belong to me. Don’t kill me. Don’t maim me, either, and let’s get out of here before either of us maims someone else.”
“Sounds good to me.” He snarled it, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I mean, sounds good to me, mistress.”
Senga caught a flash of expression on Mr. Maladono’s face that she didn’t like, something like a pleased smirk. Maybe he enjoyed these clauses. Maybe he’d written them in with Great-Aunt Mirabella.
Maybe he was just an asshole.
Right now, he wasn’t her problem. Her problem was taller, looked nicer, and also looked like he was about to kill her, regardless of orders to the contrary.
She walked out of the funeral home as quickly as she could while still looking casual. Next to her, Erramun stalked. His face was set in something that looked irritated rather than furious, but she could see the hand closer to her was clenched at his side.
“Senga! Senga, you little bitch, don’t ignore me!” Eaven hurried up to her. Senga stopped, mainly because she didn’t want her cousin screaming her name in the middle of a wake filled with very important people of many different stripes. “Senga, you know you don’t deserve any of what mother left you. Just give it to me all now and there won’t be any trouble.”
“The Monmartin house?” Senga raised her eyebrows. “I think I deserve the house I grew up in.”
“You don’t have any use for that. A penny-ante thug like you? What are you going to do with an estate?“
Erramun took a step forward so he was looming over Eaven. “It’s her inheritance. It’s her business what she does with it.”
“And you?” Eaven sneered. “Are you her inheritance, too?”
He smirked. It was an expression that looked like a tiger about to eat a fat gazelle. “It looks that way.”
“I always knew you were born to-”
“Eavan.” Senga cut her cousin off with far more shortness than she’d ever dared use in the past. “Eaven, I think it’s best if you don’t finish that sentence. We are leaving now. With that which we were given. And I’d suggest you do the same.”
“I’m going to get it. The manor. The money. Him. You know I am. There’s never been anything that she’s denied me.”
“And maybe that’s why you don’t have as meaty an inheritance as you wanted. Because you got it all along.”
“Is that what this is all about? You’re jealous because my mother gave me the goodies your mama never could?”
“My mother’s dead,” Senga pointed out, her voice flat. She’d cried those tears a long time ago, and, besides, it’s not like Eaven didn’t know that - and didn’t like to rub it in.
“You’ll be joining her soon enough if you don’t give in. You know you can’t win, and you know you don’t deserve it. So make life easy on yourse-”
She trailed off, staring at Erramun. He was growling, low and animal-sounding. “Senga, put a leash on him before he hurts someone.”
“I’m fairly certain the point of him is to hurt people. And I’m fairly certain I’m not going to put a leash on him. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around, cousin. Do enjoy what your mother left you. And, oh.” She couldn’t help leaving with a parting shot. “Try not to let your sister steal everything she didn’t get from you. I’m sure she’s going to be trying.”
Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1304892.html
Previous: Funeral: Ellehemaei Inheritance Law
Senga looked over and up at Silence. He was looking over and down at her. He lifted his eyebrows at her. She shrugged at him.
“You’re right,” she admitted, “I’m screwed if you say no, and you’ve got more to lose by saying yes.”
“You don’t have shit to lose by saying yes,” he growled.
“Why don’t we talk about that when we’re out of here, one way or another? Because this isn’t exactly my cup of tea, either.”
“Yeah, well..”
“I’m sorry to rush you,” Mr. Maladono interrupted, not sounding the least bit sorry, “but I have several more cases to get through today. Mirabella’s will was, as you might have noticed, quite complicated, and there are quite a few people who wish to contest the terms or amounts of their inheritance.”
“You’re going to need more bodyguards,” Senga muttered. She looked up at Silence. “Well? This is your call. You’re the one that’s going to be wearing the collar.”
“You’re the one who — well, no.” He leaned backwards and stared at the ceiling for a minute. “Senga Monmartin, I Belong to you for—”
Mr. Maladono’s loud throat-clearing interrupted in.
“Oh, departed gods fuck all. Senga, I’m yours.”
“Erramun, Death Comes Silently, you Belong to me. Don’t kill me. Don’t maim me, either, and let’s get out of here before either of us maims someone else.”
“Sounds good to me.” He snarled it, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I mean, sounds good to me, mistress.”
Senga caught a flash of expression on Mr. Maladono’s face that she didn’t like, something like a pleased smirk. Maybe he enjoyed these clauses. Maybe he’d written them in with Great-Aunt Mirabella.
Maybe he was just an asshole.
Right now, he wasn’t her problem. Her problem was taller, looked nicer, and also looked like he was about to kill her, regardless of orders to the contrary.
She walked out of the funeral home as quickly as she could while still looking casual. Next to her, Erramun stalked. His face was set in something that looked irritated rather than furious, but she could see the hand closer to her was clenched at his side.
“Senga! Senga, you little bitch, don’t ignore me!” Eaven hurried up to her. Senga stopped, mainly because she didn’t want her cousin screaming her name in the middle of a wake filled with very important people of many different stripes. “Senga, you know you don’t deserve any of what mother left you. Just give it to me all now and there won’t be any trouble.”
“The Monmartin house?” Senga raised her eyebrows. “I think I deserve the house I grew up in.”
“You don’t have any use for that. A penny-ante thug like you? What are you going to do with an estate?“
Erramun took a step forward so he was looming over Eaven. “It’s her inheritance. It’s her business what she does with it.”
“And you?” Eaven sneered. “Are you her inheritance, too?”
He smirked. It was an expression that looked like a tiger about to eat a fat gazelle. “It looks that way.”
“I always knew you were born to-”
“Eavan.” Senga cut her cousin off with far more shortness than she’d ever dared use in the past. “Eaven, I think it’s best if you don’t finish that sentence. We are leaving now. With that which we were given. And I’d suggest you do the same.”
“I’m going to get it. The manor. The money. Him. You know I am. There’s never been anything that she’s denied me.”
“And maybe that’s why you don’t have as meaty an inheritance as you wanted. Because you got it all along.”
“Is that what this is all about? You’re jealous because my mother gave me the goodies your mama never could?”
“My mother’s dead,” Senga pointed out, her voice flat. She’d cried those tears a long time ago, and, besides, it’s not like Eaven didn’t know that - and didn’t like to rub it in.
“You’ll be joining her soon enough if you don’t give in. You know you can’t win, and you know you don’t deserve it. So make life easy on yourse-”
She trailed off, staring at Erramun. He was growling, low and animal-sounding. “Senga, put a leash on him before he hurts someone.”
“I’m fairly certain the point of him is to hurt people. And I’m fairly certain I’m not going to put a leash on him. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around, cousin. Do enjoy what your mother left you. And, oh.” She couldn’t help leaving with a parting shot. “Try not to let your sister steal everything she didn’t get from you. I’m sure she’s going to be trying.”
Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1304892.html
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no subject
Date: 2017-04-07 04:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-07 06:37 pm (UTC)No arrangements appear to've been made for the transfer of physical assets, like Erramun's car, or the book of accounts assigned to Senga. Keys to the house are probably not necessary given magic but a proper fomality... <looks disapprovingly at the lawyer>
no subject
Date: 2017-04-07 06:40 pm (UTC)And one can have more than one, but more than two is stretching it.
That’s in part my lack of having attended will readings.
Also, the lawyer is an asshole :-D
no subject
Date: 2017-04-07 06:59 pm (UTC)What constitutes moving in? Does one need stuff? To sleep there? What if people attempt to contest a Sanctity? Could Eaven also pop over and attempt to declare it hers?
no subject
Date: 2017-04-09 03:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-10 01:14 am (UTC)I wonder why Eaven wants Silence so much.
I love his growl.
no subject
Date: 2017-04-10 01:26 am (UTC)oh! That. Yeah, it seemed like a good idea.