thedispatch | The next afterlife

[ Grell is much less subtle in her confusion; her upturned brows are deeply furrowed, upper lip plucked to reveal some of those saw-like teeth. Surely, she must be misunderstanding them, in some way. ] 

Wh— what?!

[ She immediately whips her head to look William’s way. Witnessing the fear in his eyes make her own widen, the gravity of the situation weighing her heart down into her stomach.

Unfortunately, that makes her act out all the more; suspended, upturned palms turn into fists. ] 

Surely, you must be joking! Why—

[ SILENCE! 

The sudden booming voice echos throughout the chamber, making Grell flinch back. 

You, Grell Sutcliffe, have accumulated a record of grievances so long, that we would be addressing them well into the next decade. 

To demonstrate, the head of council picks up the redheaded reaper’s packet, and its density rivals a bible. She slams it down on the podium, and proceeds to read the first page. 

Grell Sutcliffe: Born to Nathanael Lambourne and Grace Sutcliffe. Greater London, of London, England. March 21, 1772. Deceased: May 11, 1779. Beachy Head of East Sussex, England. Death by suicide, footnote reads as drowning... 

A pause, as she leans back in her chair and points to a large, blank screen hanging on the wall behind the jury.

I will ask you to direct your attention overhead. 

As the lights dim, the nostalgic sound of a movie projector whirs to life. Immediately, the color drains from Grell’s face. In front of this entire panel - and William - she’ll be forced to watch her cinematic record... ]

Edited 2021-09-23 08:23 (UTC)

[ Grell's tale had begun in the back room of a brothel, born to Grace, a half-Scottish migrant from Yorkshire. Though Grace had many admirers, her most loyal was a handsome and very wealthy German businessman. As soon as it had become clear that she was with child, the young woman was certain that he was the father. Unfortunately, he did not receive the news as well as she had hoped for; as the face of a business, with a British-born fiance, a pregnant mistress was not in the cards for Nathanael. He denied fault and cut ties, which would lead to a long-standing fixation for the single mother.

As an infant, Grell would spend her beginning years on the topmost floors of the establishment, so as not to disturb visitors – and once she had become more aware and most curious, she would play about the back kitchen during days. It wasn't a very welcoming environment for a child, to say the least, but she was fed alongside the women, and had a bed to sleep in.

Even so, she was encouraged to stay quiet and out of sight; and so, as soon as she was able, she took to playing outside. Sometimes, she'd wander and attempt to find other children, but her unusual upbringing often left them at odds. Adults were scary and avoided at all costs, but they never seemed to make it easy. Many yelled at her for traveling without a guardian, and then, there were the shady characters that they warned her about. It was a dangerous district to travel alone in, and she quickly learned to distrust, dodge, and fight her way out of confrontations.

Sneaking into places that she wasn't supposed to be became her speciality. This especially worked in her favour when she discovered the theatre. The first performance she'd ever seen was, as one might guess, a Shakespearean tragedy. Hamlet. It seemed as though the world outside of the stage had disappeared; the characters radiated confidence and beauty, despite how alien it seemed for men to embody the roles of women.

Once the staff became wise to her frequent – but unpaid – presence at their shows, she found it increasingly impossible to sit in on performances. It led to her first petty theft; stealing a used copy of William Shakespeare's Greatest Works. It was after that she realised, in order to appreciate it, she would need to teach herself how to read, first. Her hoarding of dirty old newspaper caused her housemates some distress, but she was determined.

Over the years, her mother became more detached from reality, and her depression worsened; something Grell realised, once she was spending more time at home, and had developed enough emotional maturity to make sense of it. She attempted to care for her single parent, as the woman began to fail caring for herself; yet, she could only do so much. When her mother took ill, Grell begged the Madam of the house to let her take up work, cleaning and running errands, so that they could maintain their board. It was with some fortune that this allowed her to become closer with the other women in the establishment, as her mother wasn't meant for their world much longer, and it provided her some support when she'd need it the most.

Grell’s fifteenth birthday came only a month following the passing of her mother. Against the Lady of the house’s wishes, their two youngest working women took it upon themselves to see that the “young man” properly lost his virginity. They certainly managed, but the lack of engagement she had with their bodies clued them into her preferences. Weeks later, they would persuade her (with great effort) to accompany them into bed with one of their male clients. Not only were their suspicions confirmed, they gave Grell a cut of their shares. Unfortunately, they hadn’t expected their client to return with the very specific request to revisit all parties that were involved, cluing the Madam into what had transpired.

They were all scolded severely, not only for operating behind her back, but for putting their establishment at risk for law enforcement intervention. The woman went so far as to claim that she would’ve kicked Grell to the curb, if she hadn’t lived there all her life. She was used to keeping her head down and minding her business, but she felt as though she was walking on eggshells, after that. Months later, she only managed to get back in the Madam’s good graces when she fought off a man mistreating one of their workers. Really, she was a nervous wreck swinging a broom, but she proved herself useful, nonetheless.

It was thought that keeping a ‘male presence’ around proved to deter some of the most unsavoury clientele, and her ability to read helped them conduct business more smoothly, at times. She was subpar at cleaning, but efficient at the more menial tasks; however, she wasn’t allowed to take part in meal prep, under any circumstances.

The women had their fun poking at her, and during quiet hours, they would dress her up and paint her face. One day, a customer came across the sight - and rather than express distaste, took a shining to what he saw. He took Grell by the hand, and exclaimed that she was fit to be a star - that he should know, after all, because he was a traveling actor. Over the following few days, he would woo her, and sneak into her bed before the week’s end.

After all their interactions - of him retelling stories of his travels, and exclaiming that she must accompany him on the stage - she finally had the courage to ask if she could meet his actor companions and see them perform. Unfortunately, he said, they were merely taking a couple weeks to rest while passing through. That his mates had agreed on previous obligations of varying sorts, but to give him a day, while she packed up her things and left her hesitation behind.

Secretly as she could, she gathered her valuables, which only amounted to some clothing, her mother’s old coin purse, and her own books. By the following evening, he sneaked her away, to avoid question. When they traversed into questionable territory, she merely thought that it was the ignorance of a non-local; however, when they met his 'friends' in an alley, they were too eager to see her. It was too late – despite her fight, they crowded and subdued her. Beat her, violated her, and took what little she had with them when they abandoned her on the street.

Noise complaints were made, but given the area, the authorities took their time to respond. With grievance, they scraped her from the cobblestone and dropped her in the hospital's hands. By some miracle, her assailants had missed her mother's coin purse, tucked into her waistcoat, and the little money she had went toward her medical care. Perhaps, she thought, it was her mother looking out for her, beyond the grave.

With so little left, and her will amounting to even less, she finally mustered the bravery to look through her late mother's personal effects, hidden way in that purse. There wasn't much; an old drawing of the fair woman in her youth, a snippet of hair from Grell's very first cut, and a folded snippet from the newspaper. It was a headline, detailing the then-newly established business of a German man, gaining success with its expansion. The article made little sense to her, until she saw the man's name-- Nathanael Lambourne. Her mother had spoken of him often.

It would be a couple weeks, until Grell was deemed fit enough to be discharged, with nothing more than the clothes on her back, broken spectacles, a set of fitted wooden teeth, and that old coin purse. No one had come looking for her during those past weeks, so she wouldn't be going back to that wretched whore-house. Rather, her father's name had been on her mind, and after making some simple inquiries about his business, she easily found his home.

Of course, once she was standing before it, she didn't know what to do. It was a beautiful home, speaking of substantial wealth, and there were children playing in the garden. With their plump, rosy little smiles, they didn't have a care in the world. A large part of her didn't wish to stir trouble within their view, but then, she also felt jealousy – hatred! - for her well-off half-siblings.

While this inward battle took place, one of the maids took notice, and pointedly tread over to greet Grell. Interviews for any servants' positions were to be addressed in the back, she'd said, and to quickly go before the master's wife spotted them. Despite how baffled she was, Grell did as she was urged to, and by some strange twist of fate, she found herself being trained for household work by sundown.

At first, she had no direct interaction with her father and his family, merely catching glimpses of them from other rooms. One evening, however, she was tasked with keeping the master's bath water warm. While he bathed in a basin set in the kitchen, behind a privacy screen, she would heat water in a large vat on the stove and periodically add it to his bath. It was crucial that she give him his space, and he loathed small talk, she was told; thus, she found herself resigned to watching water boil.

Absent in her thoughts of hatred for the man, she realised then, that she neglected to remove the pot from its heat, and that it was nearly bubbling over! Thankfully no one noticed—for, truly, no one else was around. What if she were to add it to his bath, like this? Make him feel just a fraction of the agony that he'd caused his mother. Caused her. Sadly, it would end all too quickly, by just submerging himself in his bath... however, if she added the sugar, kept out for tea, it would turn into a boiling paste, that would stick to the skin...

Ah, she barely realised that her body was responding to these foreign and fleeting thoughts – not until the man was howling in pain while watching his skin turn scarlet and welt. It was by some miracle that she had the sense to drop the pot and run. She simply kept going, and didn't stop until she had left the city, where she had the fortune to stash herself away, unnoticed, in a travelling cart.

It was a lengthy trip, allowing the imagery from the night to play in her head over, and over again. She knew, she should feel terrible for what she managed to do to him, not to mention his wife and children. And yet, it was the fact that she didn't, which haunted her. After a life of being told that she was different, and less than the rest, hated even by God... she told herself that, perhaps, it was true.

Grell nearly made it to the south-most coast of England, before she was discovered, with a good smack and a great deal of cursing. Left in the town of Eastbourne, she was starving and freezing, but she cared little about it. She was tortured by her own mind. By her thinking, it couldn't have been a mistake for her to find herself so close to Beachy Head. This world wasn't made for her, and she wasn't fit to live on it. She travelled the rest of the way on foot, despite it nearly killing her – and with the last of her energy, she would jump off of its mighty cliffs. ]

Edited 2021-09-23 08:26 (UTC)

[ All the while, the council had been announcing her transgressions against the Lord's teachings, as they played out on screen - but Grell hasn't heard any of them. Her paled face merely lowers as the film whirrs to an end, swallowing down the emotion that's knotted up in her throat.

Before this, has Grell ever truly been speechless? ]

[ William tries to do Grell the courtesy of adverting her eyes while her record plays. But, before long, he finds his gaze drifting back. Perhaps out of habit, perhaps out of curiosity.

What he witnesses is nothing like the Grell he ever knew. There are scenes which make him realize he knew nothing of the hardships of growing up in the lower classes, and other scenes which make him feel oddly empathetic towards her - something he's never felt, despite standing along side her for centuries.

The film ends, and where William expects her sentence will be announced, instead a new reel is thread through the projector. William takes a steadying breath. He hardly needs to watch as he's tortured himself with viewing his own record countless times through the years. He's nearly numb to it. Perhaps that's how he won this so called "freedom" to begin with.

As with Grell, the woman announces his information.

William Thomas Spears (later renamed: William Thomas Camden, Jr.): Born to William Camden, Sr. and Felicity Spears. Greater London, of London, England. January 15, 1775. Deceased: May 9, 1779. Greater London, of London, England. Death by suicide, footnote reads: instantaneous via gunshot wound to head.

As before, the woman indicates the screen as William's record begins to roll. ]

Edited 2021-09-23 19:21 (UTC)

[ In a proper upper class, Catholic household, two young blonde girls watch excitedly as their mother births a new baby bother into their world. Unlike any others in the family, he's raven haired, and his mother suffers dearly for her adulterous acts by her husband's firm hand and demeaning words. William's spared no less, but the apathy of the young boy towards his "father's" disgust in him quickly tires the man. Besides, the family needs an heir to the prosperous business he'd built from the ground up, and with only daughters to his name, the bastard child is renamed and raised to be the future face of the company.

A marriage is arranged between William and the daughter of a competing company's owner, with the intent to merge into a larger company with a firmer grip on the London economy. But, William hardly cares for the woman, refusing any intimacy.

However, one day when William sat in a local park, deciding to take his lunch in a more peaceful setting, away from the demands of his "father". A woman approaches, meekly asking if he wouldn't mind sharing the table with someone of lower class, as all the others in the park were occupied. He allows it, hardly interested or caring of her status. The woman finds his acceptance relieving, if not a bit endearing, and chances polite conversation with him. The next day is much the same, and before he knows it, William's listening with intrigue about the woman's likes and dislikes, her job as a seamstress, her dreams of singing at the grand theaters of London. One day, when she fails to show her face at the park, William even goes so far as to fetch the woman some lunch and visit the tailor's shop where she works. It was the first time he'd ever felt something other than apathy towards another.

He manages the affair for a time, sneaking the woman into his bed when his wife visits with family for extended weekends. As expected of such acts, history repeats itself. The Camden household has another bastard child on the way and William makes plans to move his lover and their unborn child away from the wrath of his "father", should he ever find out.

It doesn't take long. His wife returns early from her trip, finding her husband's lover laying where she vowed to be. In honesty, she hardly cares of the meaning behind it, as she'd never loved him, either. It's out of spite that she retaliates, attacks the woman and leaves her bleeding on the floor for William to walk in upon. She's miscarried and on the verge of death, herself, having been struck on the head with a heavy iron hammer. It's the most emotion William's ever felt in his entire life. Rage, sorrow, but not an ounce of remorse as he uses his wife's own weapon against her, bludgeoning her to death with the end of the tool.

His lover doesn't last much longer, and with little thought behind it, William retrieves a pistol he had stored in the lower drawer of his armoire. The final frame shows William taking her hand as the gun's barrel is placed between his lips. ]

Edited 2021-09-23 20:28 (UTC)

[ I wouldn't have expected any tally marks against you for the sin of Lust, Mr. Spears. The judge mocks him dryly, but she gets no response from the reaper. William's been staring off into the distance, face expressionless. Even he's unsure of what he's been thinking on. Perhaps what the fires of Hell might feel like? ]

[ With a scowl, Grell loudly ticks her tongue at the wry remark of the judge. But, instead of waste her words on the woman, she turns her focus to William - and slips her hand into his. ]

I’ve always loved you, you know— no, I know you know. Whatever awaits us, with what power I have, I’ll find you.

[ William's focus doesn't shift to Grell when she speaks. But, he gives an exhausted sigh and an unexpected squeeze of her hand. ]

Of course you will. I've no doubt of that. Even Hell could never rid me of you.

[ Of which he sounds grateful, for once. ]

[ Hand wrapped securely in his, now, she closes her eyes to take a steadying breath. The crooked little smile that returns to her lips seems to annoy the judge the most, as she slams shut William’s file.

A touching sentiment, but you won’t need to look far. Grell Sutcliffe, William T. Spears, you’ve both been condemned to spending the remainder of your afterlives in Hell.

Passing the files off to her associates, to which they stamp, she takes up her gavel to strike at the podium. Immediately, a glowing seal manifests below their feet, and erupts into flame, consuming them.

Their flesh burns away, as bone snaps and muscles warp. It’s excruciating, but they won’t have the luxury of losing consciousness. Rather, when the flames fade from their vision, they won’t recognize themselves, aside from the stench of demon. It isn’t just in them, though - it’s everywhere. ]

[ The excruciating pain, it's over so suddenly that William stumbles forward upon arriving. He catches himself on the edge of a counter, behind which, a receptionist sits. Slouched in his chair with his chin rested in a palm, he flicks through a rather inappropriate looking magazine. He doesn't even bother to look up to the new arrivals as he gives his greeting with a dry, exasperated tone. It's obvious he's said this countless times.

Welcome to Hell. Congrats on fucking yourself over.

The scent that surrounds them has William crinkling up his nose. But as he opens his mouth to address the receptionist, the man holds up a hand to pause him as if he knows what he's going to say.

Yes, you really are in hell. No, there's nothing I can do about it. No, you can't speak with my manager. As I already said, you're fucked. Now fill these out.

He tosses some forms at them, then immediately gets up to "use the restroom", taking that magazine with him. William momentarily forgets the stench in the air as he scowls down at the paperwork that's been forced on him. ]

Of cooourse this would follow me here...

[ William pauses, blinking at the cooing sound that came out of him. It's only then that he notices the coloured feathers adorning his chest and the short talons on his hands that threaten to pierce the forms. ]

[ While William’s fallen forward, Grell has crouched down to clutch at her shoulders— except, there’s unexpected padding squished against her knees, and claws digging into skin. Also, there’s fur brushing her nipples, and— ]

Shit. I’m naked.

What?

[ Seems William can no longer stay focused on one thing for too long. He's already forgotten the sheet in his hand and turns to look at Grell, brow furrowing even further. ]

You're far more than simply naked.

[ Shifting to stand, Grell gets the most curious look on her face, as she abruptly stops. Reaching between her legs, she discovers that everything seems to be normal - until it occurs to her to observe further back. ]

So you’re right…

[ Struggling to process this, she slowly raises on her feet, lifting her arms and turning her hands over to get a good look at herself. To peer further downwards, at her leg situation, she absentmindedly grasps her breasts to squish them down. And then, squishes them a few more times, while she’s at it. ]

I’m— oh. These are lovely.

[ Finally, she blinks to adjust her eyes, upon taking the sight of William in. Her lips pluck upward to reveal her newly exaggerated canines, and she snerks! ]

Why, William, you’ve become the very thing you love! Though— [ She curiously pats at the symbol on his back, and when her hand goes through it, she paws again! ] —that’s a bit… unusual?

Edited 2021-09-24 08:34 (UTC)

[ With zero shame about it, William's looking over all of Grell's new "enhancements". ]

Not that any of this makes any bleeding sense, but why were you given breasts? That's hardly a punishment for you. Honestly.

[ As he can't see what Grell's referring to, he shifts his gaze to the wings extending from his upper arms. ]

[ Grell watches his gaze shift, her grin growing wider. ]

Oh, it isn’t just breasts.

[ But now she’s looking over the rest of him, idly petting through the feathers along his arm, with teeth dragging across her lip. ]

[ William tugs his arm away, petting over the feathers as if he was recombing his hair. With another look down he frowns then turns towards the exit. For once he's ignoring his paperwork, letting the sheet flutter to the floor. ]

Let's find you some trousers, at the very least.

Edited 2021-09-24 09:30 (UTC)

[ Hand hovering in place, it’s clear that she wants to keep touching him, but his blasted hand is in the way! Wait, yes, there was something about paperwork, wasn’t ther— ]

Oh~, now that you’re not the boss, you’re a rebel, mn❤️?

[ Grell moves to follow after him, and promptly stumbles over her own feet, face smacking into the door frame. ]

Godfuckingdamnit— [ A hand clamped over the bridge of her nose, a low and rumbling yowl carries on her breath. But she’s (clumsily) walking after him, now, as though nothing happened! ]

[ At Grell's comment, William halts. That's right, he's not a boss anymore! A sense of relief washes over him. But, the blissful realisation is cut short by Grell's cursing. He turns back to her, a scowl on his face. ]

Watch your fucking mouth and get your arse moving. Honestly, five minutes here and you're already trying my bleeding patience.

[ Once she catches up, he gives her a firm shove ahead. ]

[ Despite covering half her face in pain, she still manages a shit-eating grin. ]

Why, does it get you o—oOAaff—!

[ Funny, because once he shoves her, she positively eats shit. Even skids across the floor a bit! ]

Why won’t these blasted legs work?!

[ Hey, at least William will have a visual understanding of her more intimate anatomy, now! ]

[ Yup, that tail of hers is certainly up and giving him quite the view. ]

They gave you a cunt, as well? Seems you should have been condemned centuries ago.

[ He sounds rather petty about it with the huff he adds at the end. But now that she's in front of him, he's able to see the symbol on her back that she must have been speaking of before. ]

Did you get tattooed at some point?

[ Said as if that's the most absurd way to spend their salary ever. ]

[ Pushing herself up, Grell doesn’t seem to notice the blood trickling from her nose, with how astounded she is at hearing William be so crass. Sure, he’s always lacked tact in being so utterly direct, but— ]

What? Absolutely not. What, was all this not enough, they marked me up, too?! Where is it!

[ Looking herself over, she can’t seem to spot anything. ]

Unless… [ Her Gaze drifts downward with dread. ]

It's on your back.

[ He crouches beside her, sharply yanking her tail down in some attempt to cover her. Meanwhile, he scrutunizes the tattoo and how it shows through solid material. ]

Perhaps a branding of some kind. Or a seal to keep us in this rhelm.

[ Grell peeks just in time to see her own tail yanked - and her yelp drawls into a deeper, sweeter note. ]

Mn❤️, do it again~ [ Now he’s gone and distracted her! ]

No.

[ And he's true to his word! Instead of yanking down again, this time he uses her tail as leverage to hoist her up when he stands. Seems he maintained some of his supernatural strength. Steady on his own, thankfully unchanged, feet, he drops her ungracefully onto her cat-like ones. ]

Honestly, I didn't think it possible for you to be more lewd.

[ Drawing a breath through her teeth, Grell finds herself forced up onto her feet less than gracefully! The end of her poor, abused tail flicks, as she takes hold of William’s shoulder for balance. And yet, she’s… purring? ]

How cruel of you to underestimate me so~

[ When the glowing symbol on his back catches the edge of her vision, she’s reminded— ]

Oh, right. You’ve got one, too. It’s a bit cute, actually. Crude little skull, with marked-out eyes.

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