Your Character Is At The Above Character's Funeral

What a peculiar situation.
Allegretto had decided to stroll the city, his legs somehow managing to take him to the cemetery. It was a solemn place filled with sadness and grief, and yet it was also quiet, especially to the prince. No heartbeats to hear. He could walk and think. Perhaps that's why he was drawn here?
Through his walk he heard it, a heartbeat. He followed it until he could see it in the distance. There was what appeared to be a funeral. There was a casket already being lowered into the ground, and besides it was a large portrait of a woman with red hair dressed in a suit. Even from his distance he could read the name: Sylvie.
There were only two people standing near that casket: a man and a little girl. They must have been family. The prince's heart went out to them, yet something felt off. He could only see the back of their heads, so he was unaware of Leroy's appearance, but it was something in their heartbeats. More specifically, that man's. It was as if he was completely unfazed by the funeral. Was there... happiness?
Allegro decided not to dwell on it. Grief was an unusual emotion that masked itself with others, so it was only logical to assume those feelings were part of it. Nevertheless, he felt bad for the two. To be left without someone in your family, he couldn't understand the pain. He hoped he wouldn't for a while.

His eyes open and he stands over the grave of a once wistful prince, hands folded neatly in front of himself. There's a solemn wind that tumbles throughout the air, fluttering his bangs against his forehead sticking his shirt to his chest. The weather report made claim that a storm was on the rise, sinking in to bless the drought of dry grounds with moisture, water. Was it all too uncanny that this was also the anniversary of a young man's passing? 

The stories of Allegretto were about kindness and saint-like behavior. He was a youthful monk to the woes of those who looked up to him, cleansing their pain with thoughtful conversation or advisory. Why he was killed remained a mystery exactly, at least to Retro. Studying on the living wasn't a factor of his life. It was only when they were dead did he grow curious about them and who they were. That's when it really mattered. 

He places down a few candles near the headstone, then crouches to light them. A smile rests on his lips.

"Allegretto..You'll have to tell me who you are."

He didn't know this man. He shouldn't have felt bad.

But still, Toast stood over the grave, of this person he had never met, and felt just absolutely wretched. The tombstone was still rather new, indicating that the deceased had died somewhat recently, but its condition was... Not great. Not at all. Dead leaves littered the grave, there was grime on the name placard, obscuring the identity of the person, and no flowers. Just a cracked vase, full of debris.

It didn't feel right. The dead couldn't take care of themselves. It was up to the living to do that for them. Toast sighed, crouching to wipe the filth off the tombstone, and reveal the name of the person buried there. "Retro." What a strange name, not that he was judging. "Sorry to meet under these circumstances," he said, as he set about cleaning up the grave. In a few minutes, the grave site was clean, and fresh flowers sat in the cracked vase by the headstone.

If he had been a praying man, he might have said a few words to comfort himself, or poor dead Retro. Instead, he waved a farewell to the headstone, and hurried off through the cemetery again. Places to be, people to meet. Rest in peace, Retro.

The little alien held a bouquet of four yellow roses, and a bushel of baby’s breath. She gazed at the moss covered headstone of the human, ‘Toast Pan’. A strange name, the Sapphire thought, she concluded it was a human thing. A tree leaned on the grave, it was clear this grave had been there for centuries. The sapphire placed her offering down onto the stone tablet under the headstone.

“Toast Pan ——-loved—— honorable—— died——“ the words were so degraded by time the Sapphire didn’t bother with them. Along with her bouquet, a bony paw of a bear, a single gold coin, a bread plate and a glass bottle. Sapphire put her hands together in her alien prayer to a Diamond god that never has or will explore the universe she made. 

Sapphire placed a hand on the stone, “Farewell Toast Pan, your name has not been lost to time. For I know it now, and I am as eternal as the sky you watched at night, and as brilliant as the star you depended on.”

Glazed, golden eyes looked down at the glass coffin and its occupant. A grey woman lay there peacefully, fingers locked together over her stomach, surrounded by beautiful flowers. Even to this day there were people visiting her, crying, grieving.
He'd overheard people talk about her. Grey Star Sapphire was her name, and she comforted those that mourned their own loved ones. Unaware of her true nature, he found her to be a saint; a kind soul to help those in need. But you couldn't be there for me, either, he thought bitterly. No, it wasn't fair of him to act like that. They'd never met, after all. He was sure that if they HAD met she would have been like the others and cared for him. He wondered what it would have been like for him if that had happened, if he'd still be like he is now.
After his meditation, En gingerly set down a black rose on top of her coffin. He could not speak, so he only gave her a soft look before walking away.

There was a lot to be said about a fallen prince. En wasn't the first one to pass away, he supposed, but so soon after his brother? Not that Noel cared, or at least tried to seem like he didn't care. Death came for everyone, and he found it surprising that he himself had yet to push up the daisies, but he shouldn't jinx himself. He needed to take care of the girl.

The skies were black, those glittering stars now covered by thick, dark clouds. The crowd from earlier had dispersed, but the old man remained. He knelt by the freshly covered grave, not with flowers, but with a lantern by his foot and his cold stare fixated on the patch of earth. He propped his arm up on his knee and gnawed on his bottom lip. He wasn't as good at talking to the dead as compared to the dying, though one could debate on the latter, due to his history as a soldier. So, it took him forever to actually begin, as he scratched his chin, and perhaps to save him from embarrassment, he looked around the field for a moment before talking to the deceased.

"Sorry you're dead." Wow. "Your brother was a good man, wasn't he? Don't think I'd call you any better, but if things were different, then... I don't know, maybe." He paused to rub the nape of his neck. This was a bit awkward.

"I mean, I can't say I'm much better. At least you can't do stupid shit anymore, because... you're fucking dead, but I'll keep doing it until I die, which might be a while from now, I think." He might as well drop dead now. He couldn't save himself from a vague humiliation as he studied the grave. "And I know you couldn't speak, or whatever, but you'd probably have a pretty voice. Or, not pretty. That's more a woman's word... I guess you had the..."

He stopped. Maybe he should shut up now. His eyebrows furrowed, his head hurt, and he was struggling not to disrespect the prince anymore than he already had. It was bad luck to do so, he always told his daughter. She dug around in the tombs, anyway... Actually...

"I'll try to keep her away from you for a little while." he then added, "Just so you can... get used to this."

It may be silly, but most of the time Mitch doesn't even think about death. It's true! He doesn't feel dead, and he has a hard time believing he's a ghost... Or whatever he is. If he were a ghost, he should feel at ease in a graveyard, right? But... Well- He's not scared, it's not night time, it's not a particularly creepy place, but it doesn't feel like home either.

He doesn't remember why he ended up there, floating aimlessly while looking at the gravestones around him. He'd read the dates, mentally calculating how old they were when they parted... Imagining what his would look like, if he felt dead, if he remembered...

The graveyard had been very quiet until a very soft weep could be heard near. It caught his attention and he tried to approach the place, spotting a person in front of one grave in particular, mourning and trying to make as little noise as possible... Until they felt another presence and quicky fled the place.

Mitch though he had scared them, but maybe they just didn't want to be seen. That's fair... He was curious though, so he approached the grave, reading about the person who passed away, the person who was being mourned.

There's the name, "Noel Alkaev", the date of birth, the date of death and then a rather comprehensive list of his... Crimes? Oh, shit, this is a deceased criminal. That's heavy... However, the very bottom of the grave holds a single flower and a handmade note, "And a loving father."

... Hm. This person had someone who loved him too, despite everything...

(Sorry that I took a little bit of a creative freedom, I hope you like it though his story is so sad y_y)

___

NP: There is actually a grave for Mitch, it's a small baby-themed one & it has only one date (october 28, 21 years ago). He doesn't remember it, unfortunately, but he might be around without even meaning to.

Dani was in the graveyard, visiting her mother's grave. Today was of course, the day she had died so many years ago- and frankly, when she had croaked it was more of a relief for Dani than it was sad. She couldn't bear to see her mother's zombie-like state when she was still amongst the living. When she visited, she was moreso mourning the mother she could've had, rather than the mother she had gotten in life.

In any case, she was done visiting now and was heading away from the gravestone when she came towards the baby graves. She never tended to look at them on prior trips but today she decided to take a look as she walked by. 

"Mitch...?" She said, thinking back to a dinner she had earlier with a fellow of the same name. She looked at the date of death. Hm. The little boy would've been as old as the Mitch she knew too, what a weird coincidence. She walked back to the adult graves, grabbing a single flower from someone else's bouquet and leaving it there before leaving the graveyard herself.

Kiushhu heard of the death of a woman, Dani was her name.  As they watched from a distance the funeral service, they began learning a few things about the woman and her life. They shook their head softly at the words they heard. She wasn't very great of a person in life, and had a very troubling past in general. Yet, she was gone now, cut down just a little too short. Kiushhu believed that...given the chance, perhaps she could have changed. But it was too late now.

Resting their hand against the nearby tree, the warrior mumbled off their own words for the departed.

"Dani, though I had not known you, and I may not mourn you as you were," They sighed, " I mourn what you could have been. I hope you find peace, and where you rest now, you discover a place where you can find kindness and the place to be kind. The world is rough, I understand, therefore I shan't offer too harsh of a word on your life. The dead deserve to rest."

The flag flown half-staff. To signify the mourning of a nation. To honor the death of a hero. The uberhero will not be forgot. They were a bold hero and perhaps some may even call them arrogant. However all knew that their lively personality will be sorely missed. The entire tribe was there, gathered to see their hero laid to rest. 

Deep in the dark shadows lurked Shadow Boss. He didn't want to be seen by the other Heroes and tribe members. The boss didn't want anyone to know he was here today. Shadow Boss was not your typical hero, and nor was Kiushhu. In that manner, he felt connected with this mysterious masked uberhero. This was why Shadow Boss was here. To show respect to a fallen hero. A hero that did not fit the cookie cutter hero, but a hero nonetheless.  
He waited until the crowd said their goodbyes, tossed their flowers, said their last prayers. That was when he finally emerged from the shadows... He places his hand on the coffin and gave it a few pat. Then laid a black rose down. The rose was the flower of Shadow Boss's people, his shadow clan. "Rest in peace hero."

(Wow!! So beautifully written! That cremation burial tho! LOL. SHADOW BOSS'S NIGHTMARES COME TRUE! FIRE! LIKE THE ULTIMATE TROLL. KICK IN THE GROIN KIND OF DEAL. HIS SOUL MAY NEVER REST IN PEACE! HAHAHA. I LOVE OTTO)

On this episode of: Otto Has No Respect...

Otto despised what was bizarre. Two animals conjoined at the cheeks from birth, no longer endearing, their third eye glazed over. The stories his daughter read when she was still with him, though he tried to persuade her towards novels more befitting a little lady. Those who were humanoid, but not quite, built like horrific beasts, built like freaks of nature. This, he thought of Shadow Boss, who he fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, hadn't gotten to know very well, if only because he successfully avoided the brute. He wanted nothing to do with someone so chaotic. Someone who could manipulate darkness, as any demon might, as Otto liked to refer to him as.

So, when he learned of Shadow Boss's death, Otto was relieved. He felt as though a weight had been lifted off of his chest, and so he took in a gulp of air. All was right with the world again, until something else terrible happened, and he had to lay his eyes upon it and wince.

He ventured deeper into the forest, mounted atop a chestnut mare. The horse pushed back foliage, walking into a sunlit clearing dotted with clover flowers. Otto found it strange. Why anyone would bury such a man in a beautiful neck of the woods such as this was beyond him. Those anyones were fools, he thought, as he steered his horse to a halt nearby a soft patch of earth, the grass still in the process of regrowing in front of a ragged headstone.

His gaze was cold as he looked down upon the grave. Slowly, he hauled himself off the saddle, and rested his foot atop the soil, testing its firmness by putting all of his weight into his right foot. It wouldn't be too strenuous to have a few of his people come out and collect the body for transport. Surely, Shadow Boss didn't deserve to be here, or anywhere, not where someone could stumble upon his grave. The sea would do just fine, or perhaps a river, whichever would have the most fish interested in nibbling on him. Once a villain, always a villain.

Not that he himself was a villain. He was a hero, and then he was misunderstood, as he liked to think of it.

"You shouldn't be out here." he hissed out, "You would be better off somewhere far away. Far, where no one can find you. A sea burial or a cremation would be what you deserve-- a cremation--" He paused, giving a shuddering sigh. "You should burn."

otto also has a canon grave, if you want to draw inspiration from that! :'v he has his own fancy room underground. disgusting.

(This has to do with a story Varpor made called The Raven. There are hints to past violent gore and sexual assault but they are not outright said. Also there is grave defacing and slight body defacing, Lilith is kinda sadistic to killing these type of people so she kinda acts scary. Not sure if I took it too far, I can tone it down if need be. Sorry for the novel, got carried away.)

Otto was not a good man, in fact he was a horrible person in Lilith's opinion, too bad many people didn't see him for who he truly was. Sure he improved this kingdom but that did not excuse the atrocities he made others commit in his name. Although that wasn't what made Lilith furious no... it was what he did to that little girl. Not much else made her so angry and disgusted. Otto was at the top of her hit list, she stalked him for a while during her reconnaissance of the castle. She eyed him like a hungry carnivore, he was lucky he hadn't tried anything with the girl during that time span, otherwise Lilith wasn't sure she could've controlled herself.

She wondered if his blood would've tasted sweet or bitter like his black soul, it was unfortunate that she would never find out.

Otto was murdered. Brutally at that. His body was discovered in his room, his insides on his outsides apparently. Lilith wished she could've been there to see it. Had she been the one to do it she would've dragged it out a lot longer. Noel's disappearance shortly after the crime left no doubt in her mind as to who killed Otto. She really did not know what happened to Noel after that, either he survived and left Yenereth for good, or he perished only to be buried in an unmarked grave. The mystery bothered her but she wish him well wherever he is.

What was the reason Lilith snuck to Otto's resting place so late at night? Simple, she wanted to deface his grave. His resting place was a fancy tomb built for a king, too bad they put scum in it. The door was locked but it only took a little while to pick the lock, sure she could've broke the door but she wanted to leave the outside looking untouched so the interior would be left as it would be for as long as possible. Upon entering she started with ripping everything off the walls of the room, then she smashed every (expensive) object in the room and she pushed Otto's casket off it's pedestal, said casket broke and expelled it's contents. Otto's body was dressed up in fancy clothes, not a spot of gore on him, and he had a very unusual smile on his face.

Lilith was furious at how well kept his body was but she did not do a thing to it, instead she wrote on the walls, the floors and everything, she cursed him out and then some, called him out on every horrible thing she knew about him. When it was over there was not one space in the tomb without ink. Before she exited the tomb she left her trademark two slash mark on Otto's face, a scar of shame forever placed on him.

She gently closed the door behind her, doing her best to make it look untouched. Lilith turned to stare back at the tomb then she plopped a cherry sour into her maw. Sure she didn't get her kill but she did grief his grave so at least that's somewhat of a victory. She gave a snort of contempt then she leapt into the air, and as silent as she arrived, she disappeared into the night sky.

Frederick slowly approached the grave. It was at the outskirts of a forest, at the back of an old, abandoned log cabin. If he hadn't been searching for it he would have missed the grave, which was only a fresh pile of dirt among some flowers. Someone had beat him here, it seemed.
Lilith was a bit of an enigma. He knew her better than his coworkers did, but not for friendly reasons. She used to be an assassin, and though she quit it she tried to help the police numerous times by sending letters over criminal locations. He knew both these sides to her and was aware it was her behind the letters, but never brought it up. There was no point, and she seemed content with her life as is.
Many people would have considered her irredeemable, that helping catch a thug here and a murderer there didn't absolve her of her "games" from her youth. But for Frederick, one that shared a similar life, well--
He pulled a lily out of his coat and set it down on the grave.
--she just might have a happy ending waiting for her.