A Graveyard

<Enter from The Midnight Sun>

A solemn procession makes its way through the streets of The Free City towards the graveyard. It is lead by Paul the bouncer, who pulls the hand wagon containing Hasdrubal’s coffin. Following just behind the wagon comes Madame Naoki. Her eyes beneath the veil she wears are dull, fixed on the closed door of the coffin in front of her. Following behind her are the other members of The Midnight Sun who would be attending the funeral, including but not limited to Artemis and Mr. Cresno.

The procession makes its way to the gates of the graveyard, and proceeds inside. The wagon stops at a freshly dug grave, and the coffin is lowered out of the wagon to rest on the grass beside the hole, opposite the mound of dirt that would cover it.

The small group circles around the grave silently, and stands motionless, waiting for others to arrive and then for Mr. Cresno to begin the eulogy.

Artemis follows close behind Madame Naoki in the procession. Her eyes roam the surroundings looking for possible threats, but every so often, her gaze stills, and her eyes take on a faraway appearance for a moment.

Her dress has not changed much from its day-to-day norm, but her suit is of a more formal cut, and a black rose adorns her lapel.

At the graveside, she stands closer to Madame Naoki than usual, trying to offer some modicum of strength to the other woman with her presence.

Drude is, for the first time in his existence on this earth, prominent, standing tall above the others in the procession, head bowed. Hasdrubal as a person did not mean much to him; the Midnight Sun on the whole was just another possession to be won. Hasdrubal's loss, though, affected him greatly. Without the master chemist, new drinks would never be concocted and old drinks could only be made by the likes of Kevin, who were subpar in "personality" and skill. Even a future "research alchemist" (what a ridiculous term) would never compare.

Still, this is no cause for sorrow. Emotion toward a lost pawn, or even a rook, is truly a piteous thing in itself. The Sun would go on, as would his game and today, he would appear sorrowful.

Emotion. Humans. I suppose that with such a finite existence, they become attached to each other and the limited time they will spend on this earth. Sad, short-term humans. No cares or plans for the centuries, millennia, eons to come. But I digress. I shall appear somber.

Drude simply stood silently in the graveyard, looking nowhere but down.

The day was downcast, terribly appropriate for the situation. Reese saw the thunderclouds on the horizon and decided that it would be best to proceed.

He stepped in front of the gathered mourners, a book clasped in his hands. An attentive observer would notice that the book had no markings indicative of a religious text. In fact, the cover was studiously blank.

"As the Keeper of Knowledge, it is my duty to speak on behalf of the deceased."

There was an audible pause as Reese collected his thoughts. It was his belief that rehearsed speeches undervalued those whom it was be delivered for.

"Everyone that comes into this world has an impact. People are touched, events are influenced. The actions that one takes in life reverberates into the cosmic web. Some say that we are mere pinpricks in a massive world, most of us dying without having accomplished anything notable in the grand scheme of things. While this may be true, some people—"

Reese dropped the book he was holding onto the ground. It began to stretch, the number of pages steadily increasing. The top cover soon towered over the skeleton beneath it, and continued to climb.

"...some people have a greater impact than others." He tapped the spine of the book, now distended to monstrous proportions.

"This book contains the complete life of Hasdrubal. Every action he has taken, every life he has touched."

Reese set his gaze upon the pillar beside him. "A person with a life this long has molded history with his own two hands. The echoes of Hasdrubal's actions will be heard for centuries more. Who could mourn a lost life such as this? They have made their stamp on time, one that will be almost impossible to shake away. In this manner, they are never truly dead, never forgotten. They are a part of the web that is history."

Hands were slid into pockets, the skull bowed.

"What emotions I have are limited. They do not have the scope or intensity of what you will feel. I do not feel sorrow, but I certainly understand loss. I will feel the absence of the conversations we had. I will never again be able to witness the wonders and horrors he created, his own brand of godhood. Perhaps above all, the lack of the sheer enthusiasm he always held will strike me. Many people regard immortality as a curse, but this was not so for Hasdrubal. He enjoyed every moment he had. It was... good, to be around someone so optimistic and vivacious."

Reese slid a hand out of his jacket and patted the coffin. "I'm going to miss you, big guy. I hope you're enjoying whatever afterlife you have available to you."

The skull dipped further as he stepped back, giving the others room to approach and say words of their own, if they so wished.

As Cresno finishes his eulogy, Madame Naoki nods. It was a good speech, and almost did Hasdrubal justice.

Now was the bit where she was expected to say something. Something about how excellent Hasrubal was, or how deeply she would be affected by his passing. Something about all of the things they had done, or how instrumental Hasdrubal had been in the formation of The Midnight Sun. How many people would never again taste Hasdrubal’s signature Heartbreak.
Disregarding the expectations, Naoki decided not to say anything. She had her way with words, but there were some things that words could not adequately express. She opted to instead continue standing there, silently, reflecting.

Beneath the veil, Madame Naoki’s face begins a slideshow of expressions. From solemn, mournful contemplation, to mild interest, with a hint of disbelief. Paul was one of the newer bouncers, she was never made aware of his past with Hasdrubal.

Disgust, then realization, back to disbelief. Naoki was sparing no expense when it came to exaggerated facial expressions.

Naoki lifts her veil with one hand, and narrows her eyes to squint at ‘Paul’. There was no way.
No way...

There it was. That stupid grin.

Another kaleidoscope of emotion. Except this time, the die landed on ‘anger’. How dare he. There was a fine line between practical jokes and leading everyone to believe you were dead for a whole week. A line, that in Naoki’s mind, should be respected.

Discarding her air of mournful contemplation, she marches right over to Hasdrubal, dirtying the hem of her dress in the dirt around the freshly dug grave. Standing face to face, she takes another look at this face.

It was still there, that stupid grin.

Madame Naoki beings trembling, her eyebrows screwing together, fists balling up. She struggles to find words.

“You… you… IDIOT.”

With the last word, Naoki winds up, and sends her gloved fist flying toward Hasdrubal’s faceplate in a terrible haymaker.

He's alive.

I told you he couldn't be killed.

I'm glad.

Me too.

The woman's is trying to punch him.

I don't like her

We have to stop her.

In a flash, the twins are behind Naoki, kicking mercilessly towards the backs of her knees in an attempt to throw her punch off. Should they succeed, they walk over and hug Hasdrubal, each wrapping their arms around one of his legs.

"We're glad you're back, Mr. Hasdrubal."

The punch lands solidly and Hasdrubal's head goes flying, ripping away with a gooey squelch. The body immediately falls to its knees, and starts groping around.

"I'm over here, you idiot!" the head shouts. The body, having no ears, ignores this, and continues wandering off in another direction. Sighing, Hadrubal's head sprouts a long tendril from its neck, and drags itself back into place.

He then pulls Naoki into a hug.

"I know you love me, Naoki, but it's nothing to lose your head over!"

Hasdrubal picks up the twins, setting them on his shoulder.

"So they do. But! That would require me to have died in the first place. Besides, if you have a good surgeon on hand,"

Somehow, for a man with no eyes, he gives off the STRONGEST impression of winking,

"You can usually salvage something alive from the fresher corpses."

With that, he skips off away from the group.

"So how have my favorite nieces been?"

He asks the twins.