[peter shows up a few minutes before seven, looking well and truly wrung out, but calm. he did his crying the night before, and now he just mostly feels hollow. the horror of it wells up sometimes, but it's softer, farther away. and that's good, he thinks, for this. coming apart in public isn't really on his list.
there's no body, of course, but they're here to lay her to rest regardless. he comes and stands by the window, near stanley but only incidentally so. he finds the place exsilium was, or close enough, murmurs the traditional words releasing the dead into the next life, and draws a tiny cross on the window with the side of his thumb, momentarily obscuring the entire united kingdom from his own view. that's all he can do for them, all the people that they erased.
carefully, he reaches out and puts a hand on stan's shoulder.]
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there's no body, of course, but they're here to lay her to rest regardless. he comes and stands by the window, near stanley but only incidentally so. he finds the place exsilium was, or close enough, murmurs the traditional words releasing the dead into the next life, and draws a tiny cross on the window with the side of his thumb, momentarily obscuring the entire united kingdom from his own view. that's all he can do for them, all the people that they erased.
carefully, he reaches out and puts a hand on stan's shoulder.]