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Who: Angela and whoever knew Nazca and wants to show up
What: A memorial for Nazca Barsavi
Where: Main Street Park in Dog Fenn
When: Givdi, late afternoon

People would call Angela crazy for doing this. She's okay with that because in the end, even if she didn't know who Nazca was, Nazca didn't deserve to die away from home, away from family and friends, and then forgotten about. What happened to Nazca could have happened to any of them; it was all about luck. Angela appreciates that luck. It kept her friends safe. It kept her safe. The way she could best show her appreciation was to remember those who weren't as blessed. And if Don doesn't want to do it, Angela will.

Finding a place to hold the service for a couple of hours took some time and even more money, but it's worth it for the few people who will show up. Dog Fenn seemed like the most quiet and respectable place for a memorial, surrounded by nature on this decently weathered afternoon. A rectangular table a couple yards away holds various refreshments of the chips and dip and sandwiches kind. Nothing fancy, but maybe it's some kind of incentive for people to show up if they were like Angela in regards to Nazca. They were all strangers, but all friends were strangers at one point.

Another table is set down in front of a row of chairs, this one small and round, covered in a white linen tablecloth. On top is a vase of white flowers, a handful of candles and a framed picture of Nazca, sketched by Angela using information gathered from the few people who knew her. It's probably not an exactly likeness, but at least there's a smile on Nazca's face.

Shunning the usual dark funeral colors, Angela still goes for a more muted palette than her everyday gear. It's time for the service to start and she walks slowly to the from of the grassy picnic area, and nervously twirls her ring in circles. What does she say? What can she say?

It's best to just be truthful.

"Hello. I'm Angela and I would like to thank you for showing up tonight to remember Nazca. I don't know much about her. Actually, I didn't know her at all, but she was something to somebody. Somebody's daughter. Maybe somebody's mother, sister, or wife. Whatever she was, she was a person like the rest of us and she deserves to be laid to rest properly. I don't know what she believed in, but I hope she finds peace now."

She stands there, quiet for a few moments, thinking about what would happen if she was in Nazca's shoes and this was her makeshift funeral. Angela quickly shakes her head, not wanting to give that idea any life, and clears her throat before continuing to speak. "If there's anybody who wants to say a few words about her, please feel free. Afterwards, there's food to eat if you'd like to stick around. If not, nobody will blame you."

Nazca, least of all, being dead and what not.

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"Sebastian LeMat," he says offering a hand to shake. If she refuses, having been put off by the scarring or missing fingertips, Sebastian won't mind. "A pleasure, despite the circumstances."

It's clear that something is making him uncomfortable, but just what has unnerved him isn't immediately apparent.

Angela doesn't look down at his hand, just because looking down to shake hands doesn't occur to her. And even if she did, scars don't scare her. She's seen worse things.

Her eyes narrow and her head tilts to the side slightly in wonder why Sebastian seems so off kilter. But it's a memorial and the idea of death scares people sometimes. Sebastian might just be one of them.

"True. I wish we didn't have to all be here for this." Angela glances towards the picture of Nazca before continuing to speak. "A friend of hers?"

"I did a bit of work for her and she returned the favour." Sebastian wouldn't necessarily classify Nazca as a friend, but he enjoyed her company and biting sense of humour. "She was, ah, bracing to talk to."

"Yeah, I heard that a lot when I was going around asking people what she looked like," Angela chuckles, carding a hand through her hair. Some things about a person never go away even when they do. "It seems she had a certain type of personality to her."

Edited 2012-03-31 20:13 (UTC)

"If you'll excuse me," he says quietly, his expression shuttering as he moves to leave. It's clear that he's moved out of discomfort and into anger, which means it's time to leave.

Color Angela confused. She's pretty sure her mouth didn't run ahead of her brain this time and nothing offensive came out. So all she can do is watch Sebastian leave, a wholly bewildered expression on her face.

She's not even sure if she should apologize.

Sebastian makes it a couple steps away before pausing and turning back to speak to Angela again. As much as a funeral is no place to make a scene, he hopes that wherever she is Nazca will appreciate what he's about to do since it's as much for her as it is what he needs to say.

"She would've hated this whole damn thing you put together," he says letting the heat of his anger colour his words. He's keeping his voice down so he doesn't disturb anyone else there, but it wouldn't be surprising if his words still carry. "Sad, trite little speeches about a brilliant, vibrant woman you didn't even know about before she died. Finger food and, Merlin's tits, a photograph that we can all stand around and coo at."

"If you knew her at all, you'd know that she was no man's wife, that she was the smartest of all her siblings, and that whatever pissant marks you spent on this empty showing should've been put towards a bar fight and betting in the arena."

There. He's said it and with that done, now he can leave with a clear conscience.

Somehow the words, as harsh as they are, don't even hit Angela the way they should. She's been through this with Don already. At least he had the decency to not show up.

"Okay, so you showed up just to say that. Great. Thanks," Angela responds with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She's been called many things, her actions described in many ways. Nothing Sebastian say is fazing her, not when this is as much for the people here as it was for Nazca, whether she would have preferred it or not. Sometimes, it's what the people still living need. Angela probably knows that more than anybody else, surrounded by death all the time.

But this is a gathering of emotions and she'll just leave Sebastian to his, turning and walking away to take a seat next to a lady who greets Angela with a polite smile.

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