multiversallogs | » really too late to call

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hellboy's long used to being stared at, so it doesn't bother him at all for Angela to do so. When she asks him the question, he leans in and tries to keep his voice hushed to a low rumble, not wanting to disrupt the person speaking up front.

"I only met her the once, at the temple in Mog Hill. Neither of us had been here long, and we both wanted to know what the local pantheon was like." He shrugs. "She was pleasant to talk to, but our paths never crossed again after that."

Angela nods softly, knowing how you can still be strangers even when you've already met in a large city. Everybody is so wrapped up in their own lives, their own problems, it's easy to forget the faces you've passed by.

"I appreciate you coming out, though," Angela muses. "Not letting not knowing her all that well stop you from paying your respects."

He nods. "It's the least I could do." With a deep sighing breath, he adds, "Not the only one I've got to go to this time, either."

"I'm sorry." It's automatic, but meant through and through. It would have been foolish to think that everybody, or even a more than just a few handfuls of people, would have survived this monster flood. Call her stupid, but Angela had held out hope. But that hope was quickly dashed as the reports of how many fatalities and injuries there were.

Reality sucks sometimes.

She doesn't know what else she can say without asking who and what happened, so she just attempts to comfortingly pat Hellboy's shoulder and only managing to reach his elbow at her height.

"...Thanks," Hellboy says, after a moment's hesitation and just the slightest bit of dubiousness in his tone. He appreciates that her feeling is genuine and well-meant, but the suddenness of it puts him off a little anyway.

He looks around for a moment, then shakes his head and turns to leave. "I think I'm gonna... go. Probably done as much good as I can here."

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