[SEASONAL EVENT] empty chairs at empty tables

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving Ronin smiled softly and nodded his thanks as the unicorn trundled the cart towards the mound. Soon enough they were there and Remi had created a suitable platform for them to build the pyre, and this was really it. He hovered, uncertain, by the wagon for a few moments, before sighing and forcing himself to climb up to fetch Vanya. He held her as though she was still alive, like she didn't feel cold as marble and smell like blood. Very, very carefully he set her down upon the platform, carefully arranging the linens and ruffling a quick hand through his hair as he stepped back again. "I don't want to let her go," he admitted, his eyes already wet with tears. "This shouldn't have happened, Remi. She should be here now. She was everything I ever wanted and she's gone." Pressing his eyes shut for a moment, Ronin didn't give himself time to fall apart again - he turned on heel to fetch the kindling, moving quickly and pragmatically so he could arrange it around Vanya.

Remi waited for Ronin to begin. It seemed like the right thing to do, much as he wanted to take the reins. As soon as the former-captain began to stack the wood, Remi did as well, and soon a formidable pyre developed. The alchemist hated the way his mind tended towards efficiency and efficacy of burning a body and tried to remind himself that it was Vanya. But on the other hand, the last thing either of them needed was for this to go badly. Watching Ronin place the linen-wrapped form on the pyre was sad in a way that would not be described. All Remi would remember later was how it hurt, and how perfectly useless he felt as Ronin turned back towards him saying the words that so perfectly and devastatingly summed up this whole ordeal. "No." Remi agreed with a swallow, his own eyes shiny with tears in the soft moonlight as well. Remi felt his heart lurch painfully as Ronin moved with an almost robotic-efficiency. The alchemist understood, but that didn't ease the pain. Assembling the wood around her as well, Remi created swathes of crumpled blue and white paper to emulate waves around her body, but also to serve as a fuel source. Having been to a few funerals before, Remi was surprised how unsure he was of what to do next. "Is there anything you want to say?" He asked. "I am sure there is nothing that she does not already know, but..." Remi trailed off, the bridge of his nose and the back of his eyes prickling with unshed tears that drowned out the words. remi Don't pretend it's such a mystery Think about the place where you first met me

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving Ronin shook his head at Remi. "No," he said softly. "No, I... I already said everything I wanted to. We knew, after a while, that... that she wasn't going to make it. We talked for a bit. She died in my arms." He couldn't look at the pyre, gazing firmly down at the earth beneath their feet. His limbs felt like ice and his stomach churned, and he made himself glance up after a few moments more. "Goodnight, Vanya," he said, before giving Remi the nod to start the fire. Ronin would have done it himself, but he felt like he was in quicksand. He didn't think he could make his legs move for anything in that moment.

Remi's lip trembled as he held his breath, feeling as though breathing was somehow disrespectful to the memory Ronin was reciting. "There are not even words, Ronin.." He mumbled, clenching one of his hands against his side as he reached out the other to gently squeeze Ronin's shoulder. And it was true, there absolutely were not words to describe the depth of sorrow, or the heartache Remi felt tangentially just for hearing his friend speak of Vanya so. With trembling fingers, Remi struck a light and placed it near Vanya's feet. The dried paper lit instantly, and quickly the pyre was ablaze with light. Backing away, Remi gazed at it with a look of horror and reverence, unsure what any of it meant. Standing by Ronin, Remi reached an arm out around the captain's shoulders. remi Don't pretend it's such a mystery Think about the place where you first met me

☆ The sparks rose and grew, and as they did, rather than burning off red and gold, they flickered to white and cosmic-indigo. As they wafted upwards into the clear night sky, a trail of stardust appeared as if some strange galactic roadway was being vaguely formed. Higher and higher, onwards and upwards, until eventually the embers were no more. But where they seemingly met the blackness of the sky, a star burned brightly. And it always would.