Black Sucks

[Victor Winthrop Jr.]

Father was dead. For three days now, but only now had Victor found enough time between funeral planning and other dull and stressful things that surrounded the death of a patriarch to gather the whole family for a dinner. His father’s death had made him the new Winthrop patriarch, and while Vic had grown up knowing that one day he’d hold that position, the change still seemed quite rough to him.

Once the servants served the food and poured the wine, Vic picked up his glass and raised, in order to make a toast or something. He awkwardly looked at his mother and sisters and after Vivienne gave him an encouraging smile, Victor said: “Father was one clever and well-honoured man. Let us drink in his memory.”

With that, he sat down and after he awkwardly drinked from his wine, he turned to the sister seated next to him. “Black is a truly dreadful colour, is it not, sister?”

  

[Violetta Scrimgeour]

Father was dead. She'd found out upon her arrival home from The Lady Morgana and - perhaps rather coldly - was more perturbed by his death than saddened. Black was a dreadful color to wear day in and day out. How terribly depressing. It was bad enough that when she saw Val it was dressed in black but now it seemed she too would have to go into mourning. Though her dress at present was beautiful it was, sadly, all black and therefore not at all to her taste. She, could, at least, take comfort (and amusement) in the fact that dearest Velia - so recently entering half-mourning of her husband - would have to re-enter full morning. It was all too hilarious, really.

"Indeed, brother, it truly is horrendous." She said it with a slight look across the table at Velia. "And here Velia was certain she'd escaped the color black forever. Poor dear she is, having to don black again so soon after entering half-mourning." Etta knew it was not exactly the best choice of words but family afforded leniency in social graces. And taunting Velia really was too lovely a prospect to pass up. The look on her baby sister's face was positively humorous and worth the slight look her mother had pointed her way.

  

[Velia Hildebrand]

Velia hated when she got the owl. It was dreadful news, really. She had to go back into full morning because the old man had decided to kick the bucket. She knew it was cruel - she supposed it was rather sad that father was dead - but she'd just been letting more color into her wardrobe! Violet may not have been the best color in the world, or much better from the dreary grey that most of her wardrobe would dictate for the next six months, but at least it wasn't black.

She could hardly keep her glare contained as she looked at her older sister who she probably didn't dislike as much as most of her siblings. But that certainly didn't mean she liked her. "At least black is becoming on me." She said it haughtily. "You, however, look little more than a corpse." Her brows rose over unapologetic eyes. Her mothers slight gasp and admonishment of her caused her to move her eyes away from her sister and to Victor. "It is not so much the color that is bothersome, brother, but the reason for which we must don it." She said with more sadness in her tone than she truly felt. Victor always struck her as rather soft - not that she knew him quite so well as her other siblings - and certainly he was one of the only Winthrop siblings of the bunch who really cared of their father's death. After all, he was to inherit. The pressure to find a bride would surely be mounting.

PSA ITS REALLY WEIRD WRITING TWO CHARACTERS OF YOURS IN ONE THREAD.

  

[Victor Winthrop Jr.]

Vic was glad that he was a man where mourning was concerned. His clothes were in more muted colours anyway, so it wasn’t like there was such a huge change in his wardrobe. His sisters, though, would be forced to not wear their usual colours in favour of all black. And poor Velia had just entered the period of half-mourning for her husband!

As such, Vic understood both of his sisters’ frustration, even if he did wish they could leave it for when the whole family was not gathered.

“I daresay we all look like corpses.” Vic added with a small smile, hoping that he’d make the tension leave somehow. “I suppose that is why people who mourn should wear black in the first place. To remind us all that we can all die.”

How long it would be before he died? He was not that old, but he was already in his mid-thirties. He ought to get married, after he’s out of mourning. The continuity of the family name depended on him.

  

[Violetta Scrimgeour]

Etta stayed her tongue and instead glared at her sister across the table. Victor was spouting some semi-poetic drivel but she knew better than so say anything about it. Unlike Velia she could be proper - even if she did push the limits here and there among family. "Too true, brother." She said, looking at him with a sadness that wasn't truly sincere. She supposed a part of her was shocked about her father's death. She couldn't really say she'd miss him, however. Victor and Vivienne had been the light of his life and as such the rest of his children were left lacking where affection went. Still, he was her father and she felt strange to think she'd never again correspond with him.

"The reason for the black is dreadful to be sure, but we honor his memory in properly mourning him in such a way." She said it with a thoughtful nod of her head. "I am just sorry that it was so sudden. To have such responsibilities placed rather suddenly on your shoulders must be a terrible burden." She said it with a tone in her voice that implied she had more sympathy than she did. In truth she thought it would be rather humorous to watch as he made a mad dash to wed and produce heirs. He should have been doing such already but Victor was rather strange that way.