Crumbled Ideals - World of Atonement

Special Vania Log: Reunion

Festivities lined the streets of Aldebaran following the defeat of Taurus. The scent of booze mixed in the air with freshly baked pastries created an intoxicating aroma throughout the city square. Children played in the midday heat, pretending to be Drac, Crow, or Delta while some unfortunate lout was forced into the role of Taurus. A welcoming breeze brought dark clouds closer. However in contrast to the festive city, mourning and loss filled the atmosphere of the Deaver's private cemetery. Upon receiving closure from Drac yesterday, Stephen sent out a search party to recover Helen's headless corpse to hold a proper funeral. All members of the household wore black clothes for the sad occasion.

Stephen himself wore an amber tie and white gloves with his black suit. He had sobered up significantly, even shaving the stubble off his face. The air and appearance around him made look appropriate as the current head. Except for that blond anchor mustache and beard combination, which honestly made him look like a major douche. Though I can't say that out loud considering that I actually wanna get paid for this job.

Yo whaddup people? As you're all aware my name is Vania, Vania Posterus. No need to hold your applause, I know that I'm someone amazing, so lemme hear it... Wait what do you mean you don't have any idea who I am or what relevance I hold? You're more interested in hearing about Drac and company? Well so am I, but you gotta wait a bit. If you have no idea what's going on then why the hell are you even here in the first place? Whatever, I'm not gonna do a quick introduction if that's what you're expecting. Not like it matters anyway so you may as well roll with it.

Beside Stephen sat an elderly woman in a wooden wheelchair. Her silky black hair grew white patches in her advanced age. Wise and full of wisdom, her turquoise eyes were lined with tears for the loss of her first granddaughter. This woman was Stephen's mother, Victoria Deaver. She wore a long black dress with poofy sleeves and matching shoes. A veil partially covered her wrinkly face beneath a hat with a black rose design. Finally, she wore her granddaughters brooch around her neck.

I don't gotta introduce the servants or clergyman, right? I mean, the clergyman was round and could barely fit his white robes if that means anything. However I doubt that anyone cares about the irrelevant servants who won't even get mentioned ever again. Oh well, after the clergyman finished his long winded speech about life, death, and the afterlife, the members of the estate each put a single white lily onto the wooden coffin. Apparently it was Helen's favorite flower when she was alive. In flower language it supposedly represented humility and devotion. However in this context it was meant to symbolize the soul receiving restored innocence after departing or something poetic like that. Honestly, pulling deep and profound bullcrap outta left ass suits Drac more than me.

A thunder clap echoed overhead as the serf with narrow eyes was the first to place the flower. He was Helen's personal butler, whom she found in some type of dirty alleyway. Saying his final farewell, the boy stormed off while crying as a single drop of rain turned into a downpour. Moving in the cool rain, the other servants followed suit, ensuring that Stephen and Victoria were the final ones to say their goodbyes. When it was their turn, he pushed his mother towards the altar. They whispered a silent prayer before placing their lilies on top. Victoria slightly lifted the coffin, staring deep into the eyes that were no longer there. Then much like she did with Stephen's wife, she placed the brooch inside of Helen's frigid palms, believing that it would suit her better even in death.

As the rain lightened up into a drizzle, the servants slaved away to bury the casket. Once they finished, Stephen ordered them inside to dry off and finish their remaining duties. His orders weren't out of concern for his servants, but a selfish desire to mourn alone with his mother. The facade of the perfect head faded immediately as the final one shut the door behind him. Stephen cried into his mother's bosom, sniffling at the pain of losing yet another loved one. Victoria silently embraced him, urging him to let it all out. Stephen sure was able to cry a lot considering he bawled eyes out before rallying the search party.